Castle Greyhawk
by Scottenkainen
Summary: The novella that tells the story of Tenser's early years, much as they were originally played out. It's a coming of age tale, D&D style!
1. Chapter 1

Castle Greyhawk By Scott Casper, 2006 

572 CY (Common Year)

The wooden stairs creaked underfoot as Tenser and Ehlissa descended into the cellar. The smells of fresh wood and old wine hung as thick as cobwebs in the air. They could see their way clearly by the light of an oil lamp in the room below. The lamp sat on a table next to the man they had come to see, Yrag. 

The older man's lazy eyes drifted to the staircase. He sat down the piece of wood he had been carving into a figurine, but kept his hand on the knife he had been using. He leaned back and took the pipe from his mouth with his now-free hand.

"Well, now, neither of you are the guests I was expecting," Yrag said. "But you are welcome, nonetheless. Come down. Pull up a stool. Young lady, I will assume you are honest, but you, sir – I ask that you open your outer vestments so I can verify you have no concealed weapons on you."

"Of course," Tenser said, opening his vest. He showed there was only one dagger sheathed in the folds of his robes, but he took that weapon from its scabbard and sat it on the table. Then he joined Ehlissa in finding a stool and sitting down before the veteran fighter. Yrag, admittedly, looked less than intimidating in the simple cote and hose he wore and with only a knife in his hand. Yet they both knew of his reputation and did as they were told.

"Have you two come to hear your elders talk of castles and crusades tonight?" Yrag asked at last. "When my friends and I gather here once each week, it is usually to wax nostalgic on wars fought long ago."

"In truth, we had something similar in mind," Tenser said, still speaking for the pair, "but not of castles long ago. We came to speak to you of Castle Greyhawk in the here and now. We wish to see it. We wish you to guide us there."

"Castle Greyhawk?" Yrag chuckled. "Why on Oerth would you want to go there?"

Tenser and Ehlissa exchanged glances, but Tenser continued speaking for them. "If you think us not up to the task, you are mistaken. We are both trained in the mystic arts."

"Training and doing, though, are entirely separate things. Tell me, have you ever taken a man's life?"

"No," Ehlissa replied.

"Ah, the maid has a mouth," Yrag said with a smile.

"My name is Ehlissa," she continued. "This is Tenser."

"Named for a famous queen, no doubt. I mean no disrespect to either of you or whatever master released you as journeymen. Perhaps you are even college-educated, for you are well spoken, Tenser. And I do not mean to startle you, but caches of treasure do not lie unguarded in Castle Greyhawk. There are men, beasts, and monstrous things there that will fight to kill in order to protect what they have. Ah…but I see by the look in your eyes that my speech is merely whetting your appetite. Yes, I can see you two youths crave adventure. Best you have your first taste of it, I suppose, with an old hand like me than going off on your own or finding someone untrustworthy to guide you." 

"So you will do it?" Ehlissa asked.

"For you? Aye, I will. We will toast on it with some Velunan Fireamber. That should test your mettle…"

Tenser had asked Yrag if he had a warhorse, no doubt anticipating the fighter to ride astride a great, barded steed while bedecked in shining armor. Instead, Yrag walked before a mule loaded down with saddlebags. Yrag had winked and said in a low voice that his armor was in the bags and would remain there until he had reached the castle. "There is no point in drawing attention to us," he said. "Besides, brigands love adventurers, and I'd rather you not get in over your head on this adventure before it's begun." 

Greyhawk was a sprawling city, but the rough wilderness of the Cairn Hills to the north curtailed its sprawl in that direction. Because of this, Yrag, Tenser, and Ehlissa had quickly left the city's suburbs behind and even the furthest villages were passed after an hour and a half of walking. The most remote manor houses and fief-like hamlets were now heavily fortified, like small keeps. This was the borderland and beyond it was dangerous wilderness. Somewhere in the midst of that wilderness stood the lonely ruins of Castle Greyhawk.

"I have heard it said," Ehlissa commented along the way, "that the original town of Greyhawk was built out here, only to be swallowed up by the wilderness. Only the castle remains."

They were only on a trail now, one that they followed single file even though they might have followed it comfortably two abreast. The hills rose low around them and were only lightly forested, so they could see quite far, but there was still a palpable sense that the trail was narrowing and the safe world it represented was narrowing and when it was gone they would be in a different place. There were hints of it already. Large rats, rather than fleeing or remaining still at their approach, followed and seemed to be stalking the three humans and their mule. Birds that resembled no breed living in the city circled overhead and gave piercing shrieks. Green things slithered over moss-covered rocks, so camouflaged that only their motion betrayed their presence. To Tenser and Ehlissa, these things were unnatural and unnerving. Whether they bothered or portended anything to Yrag, he gave no indication.

"There may be some truth to that," Yrag conceded at last. "I am sure there may have been at least a village around the castle at one point. But bear in mind that the wizard Zagig, who built the castle and founded the city we just left, was mad. He may have intended for the castle to remain in the wilderness all along. Or some intentions we can only guess at."

"This Zagig was a powerful wizard," Tenser said.

"And you would love to add his spellbooks to your own, I suppose," Yrag said. "Like I warned you, the monsters of the castle will not give up their treasures easily."

The next hill they crested revealed a valley of thorns and thistles below. Young trees shot up into the air sporadically, their roots hidden amongst the tangles. All this growth was fed by a spring in the hillside on the north side of this tiny valley. The ground here was muddy where the spring water pooled.

Yrag stood cautiously before the field of tangles. He looked around in every direction and unsheathed his sword. He took up his shield from where it had hung beside the saddle.

"What's wrong?" Ehlissa asked.

"I don't know," Yrag said calmly. "Can your spells tell us anything?"

Tenser and Ehlissa both nervously fingered their lightly encumbered pouches of spell components, but it was Tenser who said, "No, we came prepared with offensive spells."

"Apprentice magic-users," Yrag grumbled under his breath. He waved his sword low over the nearest thorn bush, paused a moment, then crushed as many branches as he could under his boot. When nothing happened, he crushed more, gradually trampling a path around the outside of the shallow valley to where the now-narrow path continued on the far side.

"Did you think the brush back there posed a danger?" Ehlissa asked at last. 

"I didn't know," Yrag said, "and that's what was dangerous. I know it's been awhile since I was through here last, but those were not here before and could have been placed here to conceal a trap." 

"This far from the castle?" Tenser asked.

"Be cautious," Yrag warned. "I will keep my shield on me, and my hand on my sword hilt, from here on. I advise you do the same with either your dagger hilts or your spell pouches, whichever you place the most trust in."

Shortly, the only danger the valley had posed to them proved to be muddy boots. Ehlissa asked if they should stop and clean them, if indeed bandits might be about and follow their muddy trail. Yrag told her it was a good idea, but that there was little they could do to conceal his mule's trail and that their best course was speed over stealth. "Walk briskly," he instructed, "and don't stop to rest unless you absolutely have to." 

Yrag was true to his word, setting a pace for the others they had difficulty in matching. In this manner, though somewhat breathless, they covered ground quickly until at last Yrag slowed first as a wooden palisade came into view.  
"Who lives here?" Ehlissa asked, as they drew closer to the palisade. 

"Who knows?" Yrag replied, as he started to give the area a wider berth. "Woodsmen? Bandits? Both, or either, depending on their luck. Maybe no one lives there now, but the monster that came along and ate whoever built those walls."

"Is this another urging for caution?" Tenser said sarcastically.

Yrag gave the young man an icy glare. "This close to the dungeons, I consider any stranger a monster. If you do the same, you'll be less likely to be caught off-guard."

The enclosure was not mentioned again. Instead, the three travelers and their animal companion moved down a hillside and followed a long gully at the bottom. This allowed them to travel over flat terrain in a straight line longer than they would have over the tops of the hills. The gully was home to a flock of crows that was startled by the approach of strangers and took to the skies -- 30 or more crows all cawing loudly at once. Yrag considered this a dangerous omen and contemplated for awhile turning around and finding another route to the castle. Tenser and Ehlissa, though, felt they were too close to the castle already to backtrack and talked Yrag out of the delay. 

Indeed, the way there continued to be safe and Yrag said the castle was no more than a mile away now. But the hills themselves were taller and steeper now, so that they had to choose carefully which ones to climb over as they moved between gullies and ravines. Once or twice, they found themselves atop one with no good means of descent on the other side and had to turn around and try another hill. Again, they came across a natural spring, this time producing a small creek that soaked the gully they had begun to follow. They drank their fill of water and topped off their waterskins, then followed the less steep west bank of the little creek. The sides of the gully were thick with vegetation and navigating the brush seemed much like running a maze. Above this ravine, the hills were more thickly wooded. A copse of fir trees stood before them like a wall at the ravine's northern end and they had to search for an opening.

The small band of travelers startled the occasional kestrel and hawk on their way through the grove, but the birds were busy hunting and did not raise a ruckus as the crows had done earlier. The fir trees gave way to strange, unknown trees that appeared bloated and misshapen. Yrag was actually relieved, as he said the castle was quite near now. The copse was wider than it was deep, so that they soon reached the other side. Here, both trees and hills seemed to part before them. In this clearing were the remnants of ancient structures, mostly just the stone foundations of buildings. At the center of this large clearing was a single hill that rose over one hundred feet in height. What stood atop that hill was surely their destination!

Gleaming in the late afternoon sun was the crumbling remains of a great citadel. Three towers still stretched into the sky over the height of the ruined curtain wall. A cavernous dry moat circled the hill on which the castle ruins stood, with a tall, narrow stone bridge leading across it and to a winding path that cut back and forth up the steep hillside to the castle gates.

The area around the castle was a "clearing" only in the sense that it was mostly treeless. However, it was a tangled thicket of vegetation, and the brambles continued past the moat and up the side of the hill almost to the castle walls. The brambles were a feeding area for a flock of at least two score gulls that had flown here from the Nyr Dyv, the lake to the north of the Cairn Hills.

Yrag circled counter-clockwise around the edge of the grove and soon they spotted a faint path leading out of the hills towards the castle. It was only now that it became clear to Tenser and Ehlissa that Yrag had lost the trail some time ago and some time had been lost finding a parallel course. Yrag backed them into the woods at this point and lashed the reins of his mule to a tree branch.

"Help me with my armor," he said in a hushed voice to Tenser. "From here on, we will have more need of it."

Yrag was soon dressed for battle, and truly did look every inch the warrior Tenser and Ehlissa had expected. Heavy plates were riveted to the long mail coat he wore, while bracers and greaves brought extra protection to his arms and legs. He wore an open-faced helm with nasal guard over a mail hood. His shield went back over his arm, and his scabbard hung from his side empty for he did not intend to leave his sword sheathed. A coil of rope hung over his shoulder. Lashed to the inside of his shield was a brace of torches. To Tenser and Ehlissa he handed each a sack to carry. "Provisions," he explained.

They followed the path across the bridge, up the hillside, and under a gatehouse in the curtain wall at the top. The portcullis in the gatehouse was only half-down and leaning badly. There was no sign of any inhabitants, except by smell. 

"What made that awful smell?" Ehlissa asked.

"Ogres, most likely," Yrag said. Barely did his eyes part from the crennelation atop the old, cracked, stone wall of the gatehouse. "I have seen a few lurking about the upper ruins before." 

"Ogres," Tenser repeated. "Giant shape-shifters?"

"No, lad, only in fairy tales. Ogres are no more magical than most folk, just a lot bigger and uglier."

"I'm not sure if our spells can handle ogres…" Ehlissa said, shrinking back from the gatehouse.

"We'll avoid them entirely, if we can help it," Yrag said. "I promised to bring you out here for a little adventure, not to see you killed. For a pair of cantrip-tossing journeymen like yourselves, I think we'll try the westernmost tower. There were kobolds down there last I heard."

"Mining spirits?" Tenser asked.

"Gods, lad – is all your learning from storybooks? Kobolds are small men the size of children, with scaly, rust-brown skin, dog-like muzzles, red eyes, and horns. There's nothing ghost-like about them; you can kill one with a dagger thrust or a few swift kicks with a hard-toed boot. Now…quieter, the both of you. We're going in." 

Yrag stopped and swung his sword as if in practice. Tenser, mimicking him, checked his dagger to make sure it slid easily from its scabbard. Ehlissa murmured something quietly, but whether it was a prayer or a spell was hard to say. Yrag led the way into the gatehouse, keeping a close eye on the arrow slits and murder holes that, if the castle was better defended, would have meant their demise already. No attacks came, nor did defenders rush to block their entrance. Yrag hugged the wall of the entrance to the inner yard and looked around carefully before emerging from the tunnel. The others copied his movements and soon they all emerged into the sunlit courtyard of the castle.

The hard-packed ground of the courtyard was littered with scraggly weeds that had been crushed flat. Glimpses of bone could be seen jutting out of matted tangles. Flies buzzed about their delicacies found in the spoor of unknowable castle denizens. The remains of small, wooden structures around the inside of the curtain wall were smashed and in ruin, with large pieces missing. The remains of a stone, mostly-intact keep was at the back of the courtyard. On three sides of the keep stood tall towers, each as faded and worn as the rest of the castle, yet oddly whole.

Crossing the yard took considerable time, as Yrag would take a few steps, then motion for the others to stop, and listen for a minute before taking a few more steps. He never heard anything that gave him longer pause, so ten minutes later they were standing at the foot of the westernmost tower. Vines covered the tower wall like a lattice of green snakes. There was a pair of double doors set in the wall of the tower at ground level that were clear of vines, as if the result of deliberate pruning. The doors appeared to be oak bound with iron, but in remarkably good condition given the shape of the surrounding castle. The doors had high-hanging iron rings set in them, though the doors were made to push open.

"So far, things go well for us," Yrag whispered. "It's been long enough since anyone invaded the castle that the ogres have become lazy again. We will descend quickly in case they yet rouse themselves. Here," he said, holding the inside of his shield towards them. "Each of you take a torch and light it. Quickly now."

Tenser and Ehlissa were both invigorated by the sense of lurking danger Yrag imparted on them. They unfastened the torches from inside Yrag's shield and laid the sticks on the ground. Producing flint and steel from her belt pouch faster than Tenser could, Ehlissa handed him pieces before taking some in hand for herself. Ehlissa bent low over the torch, striking steel on flint as fast as she could over the burlap covering the pitch on the torch. Tenser took the time to pull up a handful of weeds and spread them over the end of the torch for tinder. He dawdled as he worked at his torch, glancing up after every other strike to see if an ogre had appeared yet in answer to the noise. Ehlissa quietly scolded the flint for taking so long to spark. As if in answer, a spray of sparks set her torch to smoldering. Tenser gently laid some of his tinder atop it, and the fire was lit. Ehlissa gingerly picked up her torch and held it against Tenser's until the wrappings on his burned as well.

"You'd think your mentor would have taught you something more useful with magic, like how to start a fire quickly," Yrag hissed. "Now, stand back."

Yrag himself took a step back, then rushed at the door and threw his shield into it. The doors budged and opened slightly. One more rush at the door and the doors were unstuck, swinging wide into a circular room. The room was strewn with debris, and a staircase followed the outside wall up to the ceiling and through a hole there to the next floor. This much, and only this much, could Tenser and Ehlissa see clearly before Yrag motioned them to quickly follow him in.

Spiders skittered out of the light into the shadows, and Ehlissa thought she saw something longer slithering into the darkness as well. The room was uninhabited, but had been inhabited and the debris was further littered with odds and ends like a tin mug here, a rusty dagger there, and a broken shield propped against the stairs.

Yrag tugged on the rings set on the inside of the doors with his shield hand, making sure to never lower his sword. The doors creaked painfully, as if not wanting to close again so soon. The light flooding the room from outdoors shrank into a rectangle, and that rectangle grew thinner with every scrape of the doors across the ground until it winked out of existence. The colors had fled from the room, save the yellowish haze of the flickering torchlight. All was yellow and shadow. As the torches were moved about the room, the shadows shifted and altered so that one moment they looked like solid things and the next moment were revealed as empty air, or vice versa. Tenser and Ehlissa walked about the room, following the shadows with their eyes, and made a sort of game out of chasing the shadows about the room with their torches. While they did this, their eyes slowly adjusted better and they could discern more in the yellowish light. There was a gap in the floor opposite the stairs going up, and this gap was filled by a staircase going down.

"Which way?" Ehlissa whispered to Yrag.

"If you two are ready, we go down," Yrag replied.

Trailing wisps of smoke behind them, the two young magic-users lined up behind Yrag, with Tenser at the rear. Yrag's armor jingled malevolently as they marched towards the stairs, as if trying to alert the kobolds below. Because Yrag seemed not to care, Tenser tried not to care too, though Ehlissa was increasingly unsure about having not hired someone stealthier.

The stairs were not in an open stairwell, but closed off on either side with walls of sheer stone. The steps were also hewn from the rock the castle sat on. The stairs were not overly narrow, yet there was a strong sense of confinement. They were descending underground now, and the walls seemed as thick as the world was wide. The torches gave some comfort, but belched up clouds of black smoke that hung overhead and reminded them of a storm brewing. Every step on the stairs seemed to grow louder, as if announcing their presence. And still the staircase continued to spiral ever downward.

Finally, after what seemed far too long a descent, the staircase ended and opened into a corridor. The corridor was 10 feet high and the same width, extending into darkness. The walls, floor, and ceiling here were composed of smooth flagstones instead of being chiseled smooth from solid rock like the staircase. Further down the corridor was an empty torch sconce mounted on the right hand wall. The floor was littered with rotting matter and bones, all scattered widely. Yrag moved into this hallway and bade the others follow him. More corridor continued to open up before them as their torchlight reached it. It was not long before they reached their first side passage and there Yrag stopped.

"Here," Yrag whispered to Tenser. "This is where you should start mapping." 

Tenser fumbled with a scrollcase tied to his belt. He handed his torch to Ehlissa, opened the case, and unfurled a sheet of parchment from inside it. He then reached into the pouch on his hip and produced a piece of charcoal. He began sketching lines to represent the corridor they were in up to the intersection. "Is this what you had in mind?" Tenser whispered back.

"It doesn't matter to me what it looks like," Yrag whispered. "I already know my way this far into the dungeon. The map is for you if we are separated."

"What do you mean separated?" Tenser asked. "There wasn't anything in the plan about separating."

"Not by choice, lad. This dungeon is tricky. Tricky like a maze. Zagyg wanted people to get lost in it."

"But if we stick to areas you know, won't we—" Tenser began a little louder, but Yrag hushed him.

"Quiet. Do you hear that?"

Tenser and Ehlissa both strained their ears to detect what Yrag had. Then they heard it too – a scuffling sound of light feet on stone. 

"Gods!" Yrag spat between clenched teeth. "They know we're here already! But which way…?"

"From up ahead," Ehlissa whispered.

Sure enough, the main passage they were following turned right after twenty paces, and when they reached this corner they could see the source of the shuffling! Child-sized warriors in long coats of tough, cured leather, leather skullcaps, and leather-wrapped feet were running from them. They could have been mistaken for children at play if not for their three-foot long spears and inhuman faces. Kobolds! 

"They mustn't be allowed to alert anyone," Yrag said. "If either of you can stop them with a spell…"

"Say no more," Tenser said. He stopped short, reached into his spellpouch to grab material components, and began his magical incantation. He moved his body like in a ritualistic dance in time to the words he spoke that sounded like language and yet not language, nor even words. They were primal, powerful, and immediately effective. As Tenser uttered the last magical sound, the kobolds dropped, asleep, to the floor.

The sleeping kobolds made more noise hitting the floor than they had while running away. Their spears rolled out of their hands and clattered across the flagstones. Everyone stopped and listened to see if the sound was answered by any of these kobolds' companions, but nothing seemed to stir in the dungeon. There had been four kobolds, out wandering or perhaps a guard patrol. As inhuman as they looked, they seemed peaceful in their repose. They slept with their mouths hanging open, showing rows of small, sharp teeth and long tongues. One drooled, its spittle mixing with a puddle of slug slime under its head.

"Tenser," Yrag whispered, "put your torch in that last sconce we passed. Then come back here and help me." Yrag knelt down on one knee, laid his sword on the floor, and drew a dagger.

Tenser ran back as he was told. The wall sconce was rusty and the bracket spiked into the wall that held it in place was loose on one side. A long black centipede was crawling over the sconce. Tenser didn't give it a thought, but thrust his burning torch into the sconce and squished the bug. However, when he returned to Yrag he was taken aback to see he was slitting one of the kobolds' throats. The dagger tore easily through the creature's neck and left what looked like a second mouth across it, but one that quickly began to leak reddish-black gore.

"Come on and help me," Yrag whispered. When Tenser hesitated, Yrag looked up angrily and hissed, "Come on! You don't want them to wake up and give us trouble later, do you? Or am I going to have to ask the girl to come do this?"

"I can do it," Ehlissa whispered.

"No, I'll do it," Tenser said, feeling his manhood was now in question. His own dagger was near at hand and he unsheathed it with a little flourish to show his comfort. He bent down before his first kobold while Yrag dispatched his second. Tenser poked the kobold in the neck with the sharp tip of his weapon, but found he had to will himself to push harder. Once the skin was punctured, the task proved easier. Indeed, Tenser had found whittling candles to be more difficult than exposing this monster's life-blood to the open air. The kobold gasped once, and then stopped breathing altogether.

When Tenser looked up, he saw that Ehlissa was bending over the fourth kobold. She had watched Tenser do the deed instead of watching Yrag, and imitated his actions. She gasped a little once it was done, but said nothing. She slowly rose, not taking her eyes off the kobold dying at her feet.

"Well done," Yrag said. "They likely aren't carrying anything worth taking, and there's no place around here to hide them, so we'll leave them here." Yrag looked up and down the corridor. "Unless…Ehlissa, bring your torch closer. Tenser, go get yours."

Once Tenser was again reunited with his torch, he could see what Yrag and Ehlissa saw. A short way further down the right hand wall was a door. The door was made of stout timbers, but warped and half-encrusted in lichen and looked so old that perhaps the iron band around it alone held it together. Yrag approached the door and tried it, finding it firmer than it appeared. He stepped back and whispered to the others to note how the lichen was scrapped away from the lower half of the door.

"Cultivated," Yrag whispered, "for when meat is scarce. Be ready. Tenser, can you cast that sleep spell again?"

"No…" Tenser responded sheepishly. "I feel the energy in me is already spent."

"Spellcasting," Yrag said sarcastically. "Reminds me of something I used to do on lonely nights when I was a young man. Keep your dagger handy. Ehlissa, be ready to back me up." Yrag raised his shield, lowered his head, and charged into the door. The impact flung the barrier open and Yrag went barreling through it. He let out either a cry of surprise or an intentional battle cry, or perhaps a bit of both. Small creatures in the room cried back like yipping dogs. Then there was a clash of steel on steel as spearheads clattered and scrapped against Yrag's shield.

Yrag closed with the kobolds inside faster than they expected, bashing their shields to one side and moving in so close that the kobolds had to fall back to bring their spears to bear again. By the light from the hallway, and a candle or two in the room, Yrag counted five kobolds. He kept his shield between himself and most of them, hugging the open door and the wall with his right flank, and engaging the kobold closest to him. The reach of the spears was difficult to counter, but the kobolds were not particularly strong and Yrag could knock the spears aside just by swinging his sword wildly. When they did hit him, their weapons glanced off his armor – for now. Yrag was too far into the room now, and they were starting to move around him. He needed to bring down their numbers faster. Desperately, he hurled his sword right for the chest of the kobold he was hounding. It tried to duck, which only succeeded in making the thrown weapon strike it in the head rather than the chest. There was blood, but not excessive gore – the kobold dropped backwards, apparently stunned. Yrag used his now-free hand to catch the spear of his foe as it fell, and turned the spear on his remaining enemies.

One of the remaining four was harassing Tenser and Ehlissa back at the doorway, leaving Yrag with three-to-one odds. Yet it was now Yrag who had the longer reach, and the kobolds were wary of closing in too tightly with him again. With a series of vicious lunges he managed to back all three of them off. Once he had some breathing room, he yanked the shield off his left arm and chucked it at the head of the kobold on his right. Then he bent down and grabbed the stunned kobold, which had made it back up to its knees, and held it tight by its filthy tunic. Before the kobolds could react, he hoisted his prisoner up into the air with both his free hand and the one holding the spear, and thrust his prisoner as hard as he could into two of the spearheads pointed toward him. The kobolds drew back again in surprise, but it was too late to keep their comrade from being impaled on their spears, and when their comrade dropped to the floor their spears came down with its body.

Yrag was now free to deal with the remaining armed kobold and his borrowed spear quickly found its way into the chest of his new victim. Tenser was in the room now and was burying his dagger into the back of the shoulder of the kobold on Yrag's left. The remaining kobold was freeing his spear from its comrade when it saw how the odds had turned against it. It dropped its spear and fled to a door at the back of the room, but before it reached the door it took a thrown spear in the back and collapsed on the floor.

Yrag and Tenser looked at each other and then around the room to see what they had missed. There was one kobold unaccounted for, who had left the combat earlier and was now sitting quietly on the floor next to Ehlissa while she fed him a piece of jerky out of her hand.

Ehlissa looked at the two men looking at her and said, "I'm going to have to learn how to speak to this thing before my charm spell wears off." 

Tenser was busy with wiping the blood from his dagger with a rag he had found in the room – or rather, with what he had assumed was a rag, but was actually a spare tunic. That left Yrag free to look around. The room they were in was a barracks, but with only the back half of the room still furnished as such. The front half of the room, where they had entered, was cleared away and was dominated by a crude fireplace built of iron rods and stones laid out in a big square shape. There was a lot of white ash in the fireplace, but not much fresh wood. Apparently, the room became too smoky when the fireplace was in use, for the kobolds had since switched to candles and one lone candle was burning on the other half of the room. At any rate, the occasional burnings on this half of the room had done much to mask the odor of the defecations made in the corners – or on the walls themselves. The more all three of them looked around, the more appealing the other half of the room looked.

The other half of the room proved no less appealing. The straw scattered on the floor was moldy and infested with huge lice and millipedes. The remaining bedsteads were filthy, warped, sometimes broken or tipped over, and half their cots were ripped open and the straw stuffing was mixed with the loose mats on the floor. Both Tenser and Ehlissa shivered at the sight of this place, for it was a filthier den than any they had ever seen before. While they remained fixated on the squalor, Yrag had already begun crossing the room to its fixture that had caught his eye. Upon moving one bedstead out of his way, the others could see it clearly too. It was a large, iron-bound chest – luggage so fat and heavy-looking that it would break a porter's back to try and lift it. The iron bands were faintly engraved with swords entwined in vines and the lock on the chest was a simple wooden lock engraved with the image of a barbarian warrior on horseback.

"The lock is not broken," Yrag called out, "so the kobolds must have the key. Check their bodies."

Tenser bent down over the kobold he had stabbed in the back and hesitantly felt through its blood-drenched clothes. The kobold squirmed a little, making Tenser jump back in surprise that the monster was not yet dead. He looked up at Yrag who was kicking over beds.

Tenser was relieved when the kobold seemed to expel its final breath, but still so jittery that when he reached into the small pouch the kobold was wearing he drew back his hand and gasped. Opening the pouch more cautiously so he could see its contents, he saw a piece of moldy bread crust and a handful of animal teeth.

"Mine doesn't have a key," Ehlissa said, after checking the clothes of her enchanted prisoner. The charmed kobold took it as a gesture of friendship and hugged Ehlissa back, but cast a sad eye about the carnage that had been, until a few minutes ago, its bunkmates. It bared its fangs at Tenser and Yrag.

"You don't have to announce when you haven't found it," Yrag said impatiently. "Just let me know when you find it. Here, I'll search the bodies. You two check this straw and make sure it wasn't dropped on the floor."

The condition of the floor was very much like the floor of a barn, so they were both relieved when Yrag chuckled and held up a little iron key he had lifted off one of the slain kobolds. "Best luck we've had all day," Yrag said as he moved towards the chest, eyes on his new prize. "It even looks like it would fit."

His three companions (counting the remaining kobold, who really didn't care for all this, but did not wish to leave his new master's side) stood around Yrag as he inserted the key in the lock and turned it. He placed his hands on the lid of the chest, paused, and then looked at the kobold standing there. "It could still be trapped," Yrag said. "Best let the kobold open it for us."

It fell on Ehlissa to communicate this to her prisoner. Unable to say, "So sorry we killed your friends. Would you help us loot your room?" she had to settle for motioning with her hands in a lid-lifting way several times until the kobold seemed to get the gist of her meaning. The kobold made an uglier face, but then sank its shoulders in a universal sign of resignation. The kobold lifted the lid and allowed them to see its contents.

There were many sundry things in that chest, but they were as invisible to Tenser and Ehlissa's eyes as sorrow is invisible to those newly in love. Mainly, the contents of the chest consisted of a huge heap of copper pieces. Neither of them had seen so many coins of any mint stacked so deeply. There was great variance amongst them, so that some bore familiar stamping upon their faces, while others were clearly of considerable age and bore stampings that must have seemed more familiar to Yrag's parents in their youth.

"There must be thousands of them!" Tenser exclaimed, his eyes never leaving the contents of the chest. Somewhere in his riches-addled mind remained enough competence to calculate the conversion of each score of copper pieces to a single coin of gold, and still the sum seemed impressive. Gone was all recollection of how difficult the stabbing and the killing had been. This money now seemed easily won, as if Tenser had won it in a game instead of earning it through daily toil.

Yrag was keeping an eye on their kobold prisoner, lest the creature run off or perform some other treachery, but he also cast a knowing glance at Tenser and Ehlissa's faces. He smiled, remembering the rush that came with winning his first plunder years ago.

"How are we going to transport it?" Ehlissa asked.

Tenser blinked and looked over at his dear friend and companion, admiring her analytical mind. He began to consider possibilities himself. 

"The chest must weigh over a hundred pounds," Ehlissa continued to think aloud. "We could carry it between us."

"If you're both out of spells now," Yrag said, still grinning, "you might as well change vocation to porters."

A short debate ensued, in which Ehlissa asked Yrag if he couldn't carry it alone and Yrag responded that such was well outside the range of tasks for which he had been hired. Tenser suggested having Yrag's mule haul it out, but the logistics of the plan were unfeasible and, Tenser inwardly admitted, had been suggested only to match the number of suggestions Ehlissa had made. Finally, it was agreed that the chest would be left here a short while and they would return to carry it out after they made sure there were no more lurking kobolds in the vicinity first.

The door at the back of the room seemed as likely a place as any to start exploring again. This door was not lichen-covered, nor as warped as the last one, though it was of identical construction. Yrag removed his helmet, pulled down the chain coif from his head, and placed his bare ear to the door for a minute. He apparently heard nothing that bothered him, for he silently returned his coif and helm to the top of his head, gripped his sword tight once more, and charged into the door.

The door gave way rather easily, forcing Yrag to halt his momentum and keep his balance. The room beyond was smaller than the first and appeared unoccupied. The air was much fresher in here, benefiting from a ventilation shaft in the ceiling. There were empty torch sconces opposing each other on this wall and the far wall. Next to the sconce in the far wall was an archway that appeared to open into a corridor that turned left. What stole their attention from these details was the sculpture dominating the right half of the room. The sculpture was sculpted from copper and consisted of a statue of a man standing in front of and holding onto a tall basin. The basin was made to look like a squat tower, carved with fake stonework and windows and topped with crenellation along the rim of the basin. The inside of the basin was a smooth copper bowl and resting in the bottom of it was a handful of copper coins. The statue was of an old, bearded man wearing a wizard's conical hat and flowing robes, all with an odd wavy design on them. The copper was starting to turn green, particularly on the basin.

Yrag turned around and moved back into the kobold barracks quickly enough that Tenser, Ehlissa, and her kobold had to back out of his way. He went to the closed, but not relocked, chest, opened it, and scooped out a handful of coins. He looked to the others.

"You should do as I do," was all Yrag said before he walked slowly back into the smaller room, stood before the sculpture, and gently dropped the coins into the basin. Then he stood there with his head lowered, as well as his sword and shield, and his eyes closed.

It was almost a full minute that Tenser and Ehlissa stood there marveling at his behavior. Then Tenser said, "You're a Zagyg worshipper."

"Yes," Yrag said, opening his eyes. "Though even if I weren't, I would consider making a tithe to the lord of this castle. It might bring good luck."

Tenser remained flabbergasted. Zagyg, who in life had been the founding mayor of the City of Greyhawk, renowned adventurer of his time, and the alleged creator of this very castle, was both a respected historical figure and a bit of a bogeyman for children as far away as the Wild Coast. Tenser knew Zagyg enjoyed a cult following, but had never actually met a worshipper of this "demigod" before. This bothered Tenser for one reason. "They say Zagyg was mad," Tenser said boldly, "and is now the demigod of madness."

"Lad," Yrag said, turning to face Tenser with a weary look. "We just killed eight kobolds for a chest full of copper pieces. Who here isn't mad?"


	2. Chapter 2

573

"Wait," Mordenkainen said.

Yrag turned around and looked back. Murlynd, who had insisted on taking up the rear, walked up beside Mordenkainen. Murlynd had a small lamp hanging on the end of a six-foot pole and lifted the end of it so the lamp would hang closer to Mordenkainen's map. It was a steady, magical luminescence that shone from the lamp. Mordenkainen was still mapping in the non-magical fashion Tenser had always used, scratching crude lines on a sheet of parchment with a piece of charcoal, with a check mark for every 10 feet. He re-checked his map and re-examined the dungeon wall to his left.

"I'm sure I'm right," Mordenkainen said. "There should be a side passage right here. It led back into the maze, to that werewolf lair. Remember?"

"Yes, I do," Yrag said. "What do you think?" he asked, while he turned and inspected the wall. "A sliding wall?"

"I don't think this is the same corridor at all," Murlynd said. "You'll recall that some of the teleport traps down here have led us to that parallel castle, El Raja Key."

Mordenkainen sighed in frustration. "How long ago do you think we were teleported? I've been adding to the fifth level map for Castle Greyhawk."

"Who knows?" Murlynd shrugged. "It could have been as far back as the passage from the temple. I think the more important question is, where have our associates gone?"

Yrag looked down the corridor ahead of them, his eyes following the dwindling radiance from a pair of enchanted swords. "It seems they grew impatient and went on ahead – again."

Up ahead, Robilar and Terik moved into a cavernous room at the end of the corridor, with Serten and Tenser following them. The room was larger than they could see by the light thrown off the enchanted swords Robilar and Terik held out before them. Their magical radiance trailed off the blades like glowing wisps of smoke, with Robilar's glowing red and Terik's glowing orange. Since their illumination was relatively dim, it was by the echo of their boots scuffing the stone floor that they could discern the walls were distant and the ceiling high. Everyone listened intensely for a minute, but could only hear each other, as well as Yrag and the two magicians catching up to them from behind.

"The room seems clear," Serten declared. "Time to dispel this darkness." He plucked a glowing ball of cloth from his purse and began carefully unwrapping the cloth in one long strip. As he did so, more and more light spilled out into the room, until he held an uncovered silver coin that shone as brightly as a bonfire. He held it out at arm's length and turned his eyes away from its intensity and into the now brightly lit chamber taking shape before them.

It was now clearly a circular room, perhaps 40 yards across, though the far end of the room was still cloaked in shadow. The ceiling vaulted to a 30-foot peak and was supported by four round, fat, segmented, stone pillars. At the center of these pillars was a giant sculpture. It was half as tall as the ceiling, but was no more than the head of what would have been an even more colossal statue. It was a bald head with a tall, sloping forehead, pronounced brow, sharp nose, big ears, and resting on a fat chin. Whether its recessed eyes were meant to appear open or closed was impossible to discern, but the look on its face was passive, as if waiting. Three-quarters of its face was clearly visible from this entryway, but it was turned slightly so that it was facing a blank wall halfway between this entryway and another one further down the right hand wall.

"That's big," Terik said.

"The good news is that it doesn't look mobile," Robilar said. "If it animates, I don't think it can attack us."

"Look at the size of it!" Terik said, though he was facing Robilar, as they frequently did when they argued. "It doesn't have to attack us. It could just be rigged up to roll over and squish us!"

"Aren't you two jumping to conclusions?" Serten asked. "There's no reason to just assume it's magical, or some kind of trap."

"Then what can it be for?" Tenser asked. "It's clearly not a Zagig vanity piece."

"Unless he went through a big, bald head phase," Terik suggested whimsically.

"So what purpose did it serve?" Tenser asked, finishing his thought.

"It distracts you four and makes you split up from the rest of your party," Yrag said crossly. He gave a menacing glare to his teammates. There was Robilar and Terik, a pair of young swashbucklers from the Wild Coast who had talked Tenser and Ehlissa into forming an adventuring company, The Citadel, about a month after that first foray under the castle. There was Serten, a priest of the Powerhouse Church of the Presumptuous Assumption of the Blinding Light, and the company's newest member since Mordenkainen. And there was Tenser. Tenser had physically matured much in the last year. He looked more of a man now, having grown into the black moustache he wore. He had taken to the wealth that came from a year of successful castle looting and was already starting to adopt some of the eccentricities that seem to come with wealth – particularly in regards to a new fascination with the color blue. His tailor on retainer in the city had to dye all his new clothes in some shade of blue. But beyond physical maturation…well, in this new company he had found like minds.

The four younger explorers had returned their attention to the giant stone face.

"The eyes seem particularly dark," Robilar said, squinting as he looked up into the shadow of the face's brow. "Do you suppose they're set with gemstones?"

"Only one way to find out," Serten said. "Tenser, do you suppose you could climb up there?"

"Why me?" Tenser asked.

"Because you're the only one not wearing armor," Serten replied. "You can climb better."

"And that makes me more expendable?" Tenser asked hotly.

"Look," Terik said. "None of us are expendable. That's what henchmen are for. Why don't we send one of us back up to the baggage camp and get some of those orc mercenaries down here to check this out. I don't like how many orcs we left up there anyway. What if Bigby can't keep them all under control?"

The four of them continued to debate with equal enthusiasm, while Yrag, Murlynd, and Mordenkainen stepped away from them and talked on their own in lower voices.

"I was wrong," Murlynd said. "We must have been in El Raja Key before. This is the Great Stone Face Enigma, and it's well known to be a part of Castle Greyhawk."

"What do you know of this enigma?" Yrag asked.

"Next to nothing," Murlynd replied. "The Mage of the Tower spoke of having seen it, and even he could not glean its meaning or origin."

"If the Mage of the Tower could not divine such things, then we are wasting our time here," Mordenkainen said. "We should—"

Mordenkainen was cut short by Robilar, who was hushing everyone. Once everyone was quiet, they could hear what Robilar heard too – heavy footfalls echoing from the back of the chamber. Yrag, Robilar, and Terik looked to each other and immediately untied the compound bows from their backs. They took turns watching the room and making sure the spellcasters were lining up behind them. The three men bent their bows and strung them as fast as they could. Yrag, while he finished, caught Tenser's attention and pointed to the left of the statue.

"They must not get through that way," Yrag said loud enough for everyone to hear. "We want them to come at us the other way."

Tenser, Murlynd, Mordenkainen, and Serten all whispered options before Robilar announced, "We're ready."

Serten was already rewrapping his enchanted coin, but began wrapping faster. The light from the coin shrank from the chamber just as the footsteps grew louder, yet intermittent as if hesitant. Bowstrings were pulled back in readiness. More footsteps. Serten threw the ball of cloth from his hand while still clutching its end. The cloth unraveled until the coin inside flew out, hit the floor, and rolled noisily across it like a burning wheel. The silver piece shed its luminescence now on the opposite end of the chamber, including the faces of the ogres that had just entered the room.

The ogres, typical of their kind, looked almost nothing alike. One had horns. One had tusks. No two had the same hair color. What they had in common was grotesque features, wart-riddled skin, and great size. Each stood as tall as half a man stacked on top of another, and weighed as much as three men. They were wearing layers of hides stitched together – some animal, some other monsters, and even some human skin. Their weapons were simple – axes and spears, but it was the size of the arm behind them that made them deadly. They had entered the chamber two abreast, but were spreading out now into two ranks of four. As the ogres moved, they were met with the first volley of arrows loosed as soon as the light hit them. The first volley was fired aimlessly, yet two arrows struck targets. The ogres hit grunted from the impact, but did not seem to mind. They knew an arrow or two was not going to stop them.

The adventurers of the Citadel knew that concentrated arrow fire could soon bring down an ogre. It had been one of Yrag's arrows that struck first and he called out "right!" to designate which ogre that had been hit would stay their target. The ogre on the right took another arrow and then another, the third one piercing the hide armor deeply and the fourth one missing the armor altogether.

The ogre slowed down, but was too dull-witted to drop out of the front rank. It lumbered on with the others as they split up, half circling around the statue and half coming straight at the archers. It would have been a sound strategy to contain the humans, but the ogres had failed to reckon on magical support. They had not gone far when Murlynd finished reading aloud from a spellscroll Mordenkainen held for him. The far left quarter of the chamber became engulfed in a swirling mass of yellow-green vapors. Those four ogres were caught in the middle of this magical cloud and, as soon as the stinking vapors touched their lungs, they stopped in their tracks and gagged. All four of them groaned and wretched as their knees buckled and their legs collapsed beneath them. All four dropped their weapons, held their throats or rubbed their eyes while they gasped and choked in agony, and then stopped both abruptly and terminally.

The three archers were starting to slowly fall back as the other four ogres advanced on them, though one took a fifth arrow and finally began to slow down. Tenser finished casting a spell from memory and phantasmal forces – a line of illusionary shield bearers – materialized in front of the archers. The ogres crashed into this shield wall and, not being particularly picky about their bloodletting, started chopping and hacking at this false front line while scarcely bothering to wonder where it had come from. The delay was all the time Robilar and Terik needed to drop their bows and unsheathe their magic swords. Yrag held onto his bow, planning to aid the younger fighters with more missile fire.

Robilar and Terik hollered battle cries and lunged past the illusionary fighters, catching the same ogre off-guard. They stuck their magic swords through its hide armor and pierced the living hide beneath, but the swords had not sunk deep before the howling ogre managed to push them off of it. The element of surprise was lost and the ogre had brought its axe to bear between them. The two ogres closest to it turned their attention from the phantasms to the newer threat. The ogres had both reach and strength on their side, but their human foes were faster and better protected. Counting on their plate armor to deflect the spears, they continued to focus on the axe-wielder. Robilar concentrated on the arm that was gripping the axe, stabbing and slashing at the wrist and forearm. Terik concentrated on the ogre's fat gut and hip, slashing at every opening and leaving bloody slashes in the wake of his sword's orange glow. Terik's armor was taking a pounding from the spear tips of this ogre's companions, but they were glancing blows that never hit his curved cuirass directly and only gouged scratches across its steel surface. Robilar, who was standing on the better side of this combat and only had an axe to dodge, finally managed a stabbing thrust that pierced the ogre's forearm almost all the way through. The ogre dropped its axe in its agony, but also swung its arm hard enough to wrest Robilar's red-glowing sword from his hands. Luckily, Yrag had finally finished off the first of their ogres with a sixth arrow (despite its attempts to hide behind its companions at the last). Yrag sped a pair of arrows to Robilar's defense, one striking the taller monster in the shoulder and the other in the chest. The ogre was seriously injured now and turned, scared, hoping to flee from this dreadful melee.

Robilar watched as the ogre fled straight towards a wall of yellow-green vapors moving towards it. Yrag and Mordenkainen were now shouting, "Fall back!" and Robilar could see why. The deadly cloud was slowly moving towards them. The ogre, with nowhere to run, allowed the cloud to envelope it. It immediately fell to its knees, covered its face in its hands, and screamed.

Terik was deadly enough with the sword that he could hold his own against two ogres at once. His sword dodged and weaved between thrusts, blocking every attempt the ogres made to land a decent blow. Yet Terik was being kept on the defensive and could not turn the tide alone, nor could he allow himself to be distracted by the shouts of "Terik, fall back!" coming from behind him. Tenser and Robilar had to come up behind their friend, grab him by the arms, and violently haul him out of his battle just as the vapors enveloped his two antagonists.

"The cloud is stopping," Tenser observed.

"When are you going to start listening?" Robilar asked Terik.

"When are you going to start watching my flank better?" Terik responded bitterly. Although free of any serious injuries, he felt bruised and sore from some of the hits he took.

Of the remaining ogres, only one managed to drag itself still alive out of the killer cloud, but it lay there coughing at the feet of its foes. Terik held the tip of his sword by its head, waiting to see if he was going to have to finish it off.

A moment later, the cloud dissipated. Murlynd could be seen standing triumphantly on the other side, having propelled the cloud around the circumference of the chamber by chasing it. "I love this spell," Murlynd said, grinning. "The next time we find it on a scroll, I'm scribing it into my spellbook whether I can learn it yet or not."

Tenser ignored the still-living ogre and, moving towards Murlynd, crouched down to check the dead ogres for obvious treasure. "I want that spell in my book too," Tenser said. "How did you know you could control the cloud accurately enough to catch the ogres, but not Robilar and Terik?"

"Hmm…magical intuition," Murlynd replied.

Robilar murmured something about magical intuition and animal feces. Terik more graciously asked, "Is that the same intuition that told you it was safe to drink from the well on the second level?"

"Intuition doesn't detect traps," Murlynd said matter-of-factly, "and how was I to know the water would turn into snakes?"

"Can we discuss this later?" Yrag asked. "Help search the rest of the ogres."

"And someone put that one out of his misery," Tenser said, pointing to the one dying, but still alive, on the floor.

"Actually, we might want him for questioning," Mordenkainen suggested. "He could tell us if there are more, where their lair is, and such."

The question of the ogre's continued existence was tabled until a thorough search of the chamber could be done. The ogres had relatively little of value on their persons, but when Robilar crossed the room to a third entrance from which the ogres had emerged, he called for the others. As Tenser and Terik joined him, with the others looking on, he waved to a row of sacks and casks in the corridor beyond the doorway. Terik bent down and opened the nearest sack to reveal it was bulging with salted cavefish.

"It looks like we've found the food suppliers for this level," Tenser said. "They must have dropped their load here when they came to investigate us."

"Or they were expecting to make a delivery here," Robilar said. "I thought they were awfully slow to attack. They didn't realize right away we were intruders and not paying customers."

Yrag and Terik joined them next. "We should have all this moved back to the baggage camp. The orcs can have whatever isn't edible to us. Any volunteers to go back and get our porters?"

Robilar sighed. "We're getting too far down for this. We either need to move the camp closer, or have someone like Quij come down with us to serve as a runner."

"I'm starting to think you like that orc more than me," Terik joked.

"I do like him more," Robilar quipped back. "He's better looking."

"We can talk more about it when you get back," Yrag said. "I'm concerned Quij would never navigate the teleport traps safely. In fact, you should take Mord and his map back with you. We'll wait nearby here. The room at the end of the maze."

Robilar returned to the chamber to fetch Mordenkainen, but Yrag held Tenser's arm so they would remain behind. Once Yrag was sure he had Tenser's full attention, the older fighter simply pointed to a rune on the closest barrel. It was branded into the wood and depicted a squat, black tower over two black wavy lines.

"We've seen that before," Tenser said.

"Yes, we have," Yrag said quietly.

"Why did you not want Robilar to see it?"

"Because Quij had this rune on his original helm, and Quij now works for Robilar."

"You must be a diviner now in addition to a warrior," Tenser said tersely. "How you have augured a link between these things is beyond me."

"Perhaps it is, or perhaps it is nothing – but, Tenser, I warn you that this business we are on down here is serious. Yes, I didn't need you rolling your eyes to remind me you've heard this before, but I think it needs repeating. "

"That you don't trust Robilar?"

"That you shouldn't be so trusting of anyone. There are more than lives at stake down here. There is treasure enough to make kings of a dozen men, and enough magic to make you one of the most powerful wizards on Oerth. Such treasures are not easily split between men of mercenary natures."

"You forget one thing" Tenser said, locking his gaze on Yrag's eyes. "We were strangers just a year ago. If I can't trust them, how can I trust you?"

Yrag met that gaze for a moment, sucked on his lower lip, and looked like he was about to say something else, but backed down. Freed of his gaze, Tenser left him and rejoined the others.

Someone had slain the remaining ogre. Tenser never even found out by whom. A mere handful of gold coins had been pilfered off them, suggesting they must have a lair nearby ("Who's ever heard of a poor ogre?" Murlynd asked). Finding that, too, would have to wait until Robilar and Mordenkainen returned. Yrag, Tenser, Murlynd, Terik, and Serten made their way back the way they came, heading to their destined reunion. It was, perhaps, inevitable they would become distracted.

The side passage Mordenkainen had failed to spot earlier had returned.

"Welcome back to El Raja Key, gentlemen," Murlynd said.

"Gods," Yrag groaned. "You think we've been teleported again? We need a way to detect that in advance. Wait – where do you think you're going?"

Tenser, Terik, and Serten were checking the side passage.

"We can't even be sure now of finding Robilar and Mordenkainen again," Tenser said. "We might as well take a look around."

"I do sense…something," Serten said as his face tightened up, as if deeply considering something.

"Oh, you can't sense things," Yrag said skeptically. "Murlynd, talk some sense into them."

"Sorry, Yrag, I'm with the boys on this one," Murlynd said.

Yrag's only remaining form of protest was insisting on taking up the rear. Terik led, with Tenser behind him, then Serten, Murlynd, and last Yrag.

The style of architecture was so similar between the two castle dungeons that it was hard to differentiate a corridor in one from a corridor in the other. It had taken some time to convince everyone that the teleportals were transporting them between separate castles, though none could explain why such an extraordinary arrangement would have been made. It was known that the two castles were over 180 miles apart (the ride back home overland, just a month ago, was still fresh on everyone's mind), so if they did not teleport back, it would be some time until they saw their companions again.

They had taken about a dozen steps when they stopped, for in front of them was a four-way intersection. The corridor to either side was shaped differently than this one, with an arched, instead of a flat, ceiling. Everyone stayed keenly alert as Terik cautiously peered out into the middle of the intersection and then stepped into it. His booted foot depressed a hidden plate in the floor.

"Trap!" Terik shouted quickly. It was too late to help. The floor fell open under Tenser's feet and he plunged into the open hole. Terik and Serten were at the opening in a moment. They were well experienced with pit traps in these castle dungeons. They knew some pits resealed themselves, and this one proved no exception. The false sections of floor that had fallen to either side on concealed hinges dropped lower, revealing a recess from which a steel sheet began to slide across the opening in groves. Terik bravely stuck his foot into the opening to block it, but Serten cried "Are you mad?" and wedged his mace into the opening instead so that the head of the weapon was against the sliding steel shutter. Murlynd was equally busy, having opened a small bag he wore at his side and was unspooling from it a length of knotted hemp rope that appeared longer than could have fit in the bag. Yrag had taken their light source, the lamp on the pole, from Murlynd and shone it over the pit to illuminate the screaming Tenser below.

About 15 feet down in the pit was Tenser, lying on top of huge purple mushrooms that had broken his fall. At first everyone assumed Tenser was crying out because of the fall, but then they could see that branches growing out of the mushroom caps were as hard and coarse as coral and were shredding Tenser's blue robes as he thrashed about on top of them.

Yrag helped Murlynd with the rope until they were done taking a 50-foot long coil out of the bag. Yrag called over to Terik for him to "get over here!" Terik was hesitant about the pit. It was not long, but it was as wide as the hallway. Rather than risk jumping it, he took a step onto the steel shutter. Serten's mace held and the pit stayed open. Yrag was already lowering the rope into the pit while Serten (who now had the lamp-pole) called for Tenser to grab the rope. Tenser was a man of slight build and lanky limbs, making it easy for Yrag and Terik combined to haul Tenser up quickly, once Tenser finally had a good hold on the rope.

Tenser was holding onto the rope as tight as he could, not even trying to climb it. He tried to kick himself gently away from the wall of the shaft whenever he was being scraped against it too much. Everyone was shouting at once up above him, but he could see Serten most clearly and knew the cleric was holding down his hand for Tenser to take. Once Serten had one hand, Yrag was there, offering his hand for the other. The rope was abandoned, and the two men pulled their comrade up through the narrow opening.

"That stuff…is alive; moving, was trying to keep me down in it," Tenser said as he leaned on his knees and breathed heavy.

"Right…kill it," Terik said, glancing down into the pit.

"We must tend to our friend here first," Serten said. "The fungal monster below is going nowhere." Serten loosened Tenser's robes and pulled them free from his shoulders. Where the monster's branches had torn through the cloth to the skin, the skin looked red and blotchy. "Is it irritating you?" Serten asked. "Does it itch or feel painful?" When Tenser said yes, Serten let out a long breath. "It could be poison, or some disease. I hope it's the latter. I only know a devotion that will slow the former."

"Try both," Yrag said.

Serten complied. He concentrated and beginning singing the hymn "O Blinding Light" in a quiet falsetto. He closed his eyes and held out his hands, and they seemed to glow with a white radiance from under the skin. He placed his open palm on Tenser's exposed skin and the radiance passed from one body to the other. When it seemed to have no affect, Serten duplicated the same ritual almost exactly, but this time there was an immediate improvement in Tenser. Everywhere the radiance spread through his body, the increasingly burning itch vanished entirely.

"Your god is as merciful as ever," Tenser said, looking much relieved.

"You all say that when you need healing, but where are you at services…?" Serten said with a grin.

Murlynd was by Terik's side, both keeping an eye on the thing in the pit. Murlynd had produced a large glass vial of black oil and was showing it to Terik. "I have heard this called Greek fire," Murlynd was saying, "though I have not yet learned what or who this 'Greek' is. Let us see if it works as advertised." Murlynd threw the vial hard into the pit. There was the sound of breaking glass and a roar of flames as the pit lit up like a bonfire.

"I like Greek fire!" Terik exclaimed. "But if you're carrying any more of that, don't let yourself be hit when I'm standing near you."

Tenser was on his feet now, adjusting his still-tattered clothes. "If I just had a mending cantrip memorized," he muttered. "Can we be sure that thing down there is dead?" he asked the others.

"Let's find out," Yrag said. He had his bow ready again and fired an arrow down into the fungal mass. After a pause, he fired another. The fire was dying down in the pit as most of the fungi were charred.

"When the fire has died, I'm going back down," Tenser said. "You remember the pit trap on the fourth level with the secret door at the bottom? I have a hunch that fungal monster was 'cultivated' down there to guard something."

"I remember teaching you things like that," Yrag said. "All right, we'll wait and take a look. Though I think it should be me or Terik who goes down instead."

A few minutes and some light quarreling later, Tenser was lowered on the rope back to the floor of the pit. As he reached the charred fungi, he kicked it and crushed it flat beneath his feet until he could walk on it easily. Above, Murlynd leaned down into the pit, holding his lamp just above Tenser's head. By the light of the lamp, Tenser searched each wall of the pit by sight and touch. The walls were worked, but not completely smooth. Tenser felt for cracks and, where ever the rock extended an inch or more from the wall, Tenser tried to move the knot of rock. More minutes passed, and at last Tenser found a spot that felt like it might push inwards. He drew his dagger and placed the pommel against the spot and, grabbing the guard with both hands, pushed hard against the rock. He was starting to think he might have to call someone stronger down here after all when the rock finally budged. A circle of rock was depressed into the wall and something behind it made an audible click. From behind Tenser came a louder sound like a stone dropping to the floor. There, in the opposite wall, was now an obvious crack in the outline of a door. Tenser moved over to the revealed secret door and probed its surface for methods of opening. Then, not finding an obvious one, he listened to the door. Failing to hear anything, he at last decided it was safe to bring the others down and waved for them to do so.

Yrag was the next one lowered down. Terik was spiking the rope into the floor up above and the loud, ringing noise of the hammer and spike made listening to the secret door again, or even talking about it, impossible until Terik was done. Yrag instead joined Tenser in examining the door. There were no signs of hinges or any kind of handle on the door. Tenser mouthed the word "push" to Yrag and Yrag nodded in agreement. Just as Terik was finishing with the spike, Yrag and Tenser both pressed their shoulders into the stone door. When it did not give, they heaved against it harder. The door began sliding back into the wall, but quickly began sliding faster than the two men were pushing it. The door was moving on rollers until it had recessed into the wall one foot and then it slid surprisingly fast into a hollow recess just large enough for it in the floor. It landed in its slot with the loudest, echoing crash of all the noises so far, leaving both Yrag and Tenser a bit unnerved and concerned as to how far the sound would travel.

There was a room beyond where the door had vanished. The room was dark and full of shadows. No noise came from within. Yrag drew his own magic sword that cast a yellow radiance from its blade, but the dim, yellow glow did not reach much farther into the room. It seemed important enough to see the contents of the room that Tenser used a spell from memory. He spoke words that were twice as powerful as his sleep incantation and made gestures with his arms and hands that were more intricate. When he was done, a ball of light as bright as that in Murlynd's lamp hovered in the air over the room before them.

It was a circular room, at first glance similar in shape to the chamber with the giant stone head except smaller in scale, but the wall here had embedded pillars interspersed along its circumference that the other room lacked. Also, at the center of the room was not a giant stone head, but a much smaller stone pedestal. On the pedestal was what appeared to be an ordinary stick of wood.

"Could that be a wand…?" Tenser said as he moved into the room, eyeing the stick on the pedestal hungrily.

"Wait!" Yrag called out as quietly as he could. "There you go again, rushing ahead. Don't you think this room might be further trapped? We should wait for the others."

Tenser looked back at the secret entrance and saw Serten descending to the bottom of the shaft. "I have back-up enough," Tenser said. "I only want a look at it anyway. I'm not going to touch it." Tenser crossed the room, approaching the pedestal. He drew to within four steps of it, then three, and then before reaching two he crossed an invisible barrier that flared red around his body. Tenser shrieked and fell back.

Yrag cursed and came running to his side, with Serten right behind. Tenser was off his feet, but sitting up in a reclining position with his arms supporting him. He was shaken and stunned by what had hit him, but there was no longer any visual indication of the barrier that had struck him down.

"Must you test my god's mercy quite so often?" Serten asked with honest exasperation. He began checking Tenser for fresh injuries.

"What hit you?" Yrag asked, now more curious than concerned for Tenser's safety.

"I don't know," Tenser replied. "It felt hot, like fire, only it didn't burn."

"No burns," Serten confirmed. "Perhaps illusionary damage."

Murlynd joined them in the room and was quickly informed of what had happened. He reached into his sleeve and unfastened the wooden stick tied to the inside of his sleeve under his forearm. He waved this stick in the air in a repeating pattern and spoke magic words. When he was done, he lowered the wand and looked carefully about the room.

While Murlynd was doing that, Serten was still examining Tenser, while Yrag looked on.

"No, it doesn't hurt badly now," Tenser was saying. "My skin feels tender, like I'd burned all over from too much sunlight."

"But it's not real," Yrag said.

"Intellectually, I know," Tenser said, "but it feels very convincing."

Serten sighed. "I don't want to waste a healing miracle on this if it's not serious. Maybe the illusion is meant only as a deterrent."

"It's more complicated than that," Murlynd said. "The pedestal is still radiating magic and there is more magic coming from there, there, and there," he added while he pointed to three spots along the wall.

"We could always just leave…" Yrag suggested.

"No. I want that wand," Tenser said.

Terik let out a shout from the pit as he dropped the last five feet to the bottom. "That was hard!" he shouted. "How did you people rappel in armor so fast?"

"Not now, Terik," Yrag said. "Help us search the walls. We might as well find out what Murlynd detected."

Murlynd and Terik went around the wall one way while Yrag and Serten went around it the other way. Tenser stayed where he was and watched the pedestal. Murlynd and Terik came to an embedded pillar in the wall with a hollow indentation inside it. Affixed to the back of the indentation was a large, purple amethyst. They reported this find to the others and Yrag and Serten called back saying they had found almost the same thing, only their pillar held a red sapphire. Murlynd and Serten proceeded to the remaining spot. It appeared that, instead of a pillar, there was a doorway at the back of the room, but closer inspection revealed that it was actually a crude hole in the wall. There was even some rubble lying in and around the opening, though probably not as much as was missing from the wall. Beyond the hole was what looked like a dark cave.

"So…" Serten said quietly as he looked over at Murlynd, "the magic is in that hole?"

"No, no, I don't think so," Murlynd said absent-mindedly as he looked around. "I think we've seen a trap like this before. Yrag! Touch the sapphire. Terik! After Yrag, touch the amethyst. Serten, help me dig."

Serten crouched down as best he could in a plated hauberk and greaves next to Murlynd on his hose-covered knees. They moved loose stones, sifting first through the smaller ones and then working together to move the larger ones. At last, Serten spotted a blue emerald.

"Is this what you were expecting to find?" Serten asked.

"Yes!" Murlynd exclaimed. "If I'm right, the color of that illusionary flare around Tenser and the color of the sapphire are not a coincidence. There must be a blue and a purple effect we haven't set off yet. And, if my hunch is correct, the last effect, the blue one, will be dispelled as soon as I touch this." With that, Murlynd picked up the emerald.

Murlynd and Serten felt it first. It was a blast of cold air that swept through the room, apparently coming from the hole in the wall. Everyone shivered at its touch. The wind died down, but the coldness remained. The room was not freezing, but it was uncomfortably cold already.

"Was this part of your hunch?" Serten asked Murlynd, though he was watching the hole now and not his comrade.

"No. No, it was not…" Murlynd said. He too stared through the opening into the darkness beyond, his brow knit with concern.

The others were approaching Murlynd and Serten now, and even Tenser had circled wide around the pedestal to come see.

"Well? Is it safe now?" Yrag asked.

Murlynd turned around and looked at everyone before saying, "We're not sure."

"Great!" Terik sarcastically exclaimed. Then he sighed and looked at the pedestal before saying, "I guess we find out the hard way."

No one stopped him. Terik walked slowly to the pedestal, paused only briefly when he was almost as close as Tenser had come, and then walked the rest of the way. Nothing happened. Terik picked up the wooden stick and turned to smile triumphantly at the others.

Tenser was at his side in a flash, trying to snatch the wand out of Terik's hand. Terik held it so firmly that the wand threatened to break. Tenser had to silently switch tactics and held out his hand, palm up. Terik surrendered the wand, but gave Tenser a condescending look. Tenser did not care, nor did he even notice. He was busy pouring over the wooden stick he cradled in his hands. It was mostly straight, just slightly curved in the middle, and had tiny runes carved up and down the length of it. Tenser held it to his nose to sniff it, hoping to identify the type of wood, but it only smelled like dust. "I'm sure these are the command words," Tenser said, examining the runes again. He glanced at the others and saw they were gathered around the sapphire now. "Wait," Tenser said, only half to them, "I am sure I have a scroll of reading magic on me…" Tenser tucked the wand into his belt and used both hands to lift the scrollcase dangling from his belt and open it. He unfurled a sheaf of parchments and flipped through them until he found the one he sought. He spoke the magic words off the scroll and the words disappeared as they were said. When the spell was finished, he could read the command words running down the side of the wand. "I've got it! I've got it!" he shouted excitedly.

The others did not share his enthusiasm. He followed them with his eyes while they moved together from where the sapphire was – they had pried it loose while he worked with the wand – to where the amethyst waited for its vandalizing. The smile faded from Tenser's lips and he wondered if Yrag was perhaps right after all – that his associations were only that and not friends as he had imagined. It was a sobering thought and it made him tuck away his new magical treasure without any further fanfare.

Terik was using a small pick to pry the gemstone from its mooring. The others were discussing where to go next.

"We should be trying to find our way back," Yrag said.

"You're not at all curious about what's making this cold?" Serten asked.

"Not enough," Yrag said. "For all we know, it could be an ice monster around the corner in there making this cold."

"I think we could handle it," Murlynd said quietly. "I have been saving a fireball spell."

"Well, whatever you boys decide," Terik said, "at least we have this now." He held up the pried-loose amethyst to show them.

"Nice work, Terik," Yrag said. "Party treasure to be split up later, of course."

"Of course," Terik echoed.

Did Terik just receive more praise for prying a gem out of a wall than he did for deciphering the command words on his new wand? Had anyone said "nice work" for him finding this room in the first place? "Well, what are we waiting for?" he asked, trying to hide his annoyance. "We will only check out this one more room…or cave…and then backtrack and try to find a way back out of here. Satisfied?" he asked directly to Yrag.

"Fine," Yrag said, "but let's get back in a marching order. Terik, lead us again."

"I'll take the lead," Tenser said.

"Now don't be foolish," Yrag said. "You know a fighter always takes point with spell power behind him."

"Not to mention you're still injured, or think you are," Serten added.

Tenser backed down and glumly took his place in line. Murlynd went back into the pit and produced his lamp-pole he had left behind there and took his place in line. Terik produced the shield from his back and held it in one hand while he unsheathed his sword with the other. Then he advanced into the cave.

It was freezing cold in the cavern. Terik exhaled at the sight of it and could see his breath. Much of the cavern was immediately visible because of the reflections. Walls, floor, columns, stalactites, and stalagmites – all were coated in ice. The cavern stretched across 100 feet, which made for a lot of ice. Only the ceiling seemed resistant to this coating. Half of the ceiling seemed unusually low, perhaps 20 feet high, while the other half rose higher and narrower in tiers, making a row of wide shelves that tapered into a vertical shaft.

Terik started to slip on the ice, but caught his balance. He moved more cautiously into the cavern and glanced at the tall, wide stalagmite closest to him. Then he let out a short whistle. He looked back at the others and said quietly, "I think you'll all be glad we came."

The others began to look around and examined the stalagmite to which he was pointing. At first, there appeared to be a strange reflection in the ice, but it was not a reflection – it was something in the ice. It was a mound of coins. There were silver and gold pieces encased inside the ice, all spread apart like time had stopped while they were dropping to the floor. Not far away was another stalagmite from which expensive things winked at them.

"What a way to store treasure," Terik said.

"How much treasure do you think is in here?" Yrag asked.

"Hard to say," Tenser answered. "In a cave this size? It could be thousands of gold pieces, or of like value at least."

"I think we have found a use for my fireball spell," Murlynd said. "Melt the ice and grab the loot."

"In here?" Serten asked. "Well…I suppose the roof won't cave in on us since it's not ice like the rest of this place. We may have to worry about flooding. If we go through with this plan, I advice we do it from a safe distance away in the neighboring chamber."

"All right, we'll try this plan," Yrag said. "Everybody, back."

The five adventurers retreated to the previous chamber, reassembling on the far side of the pedestal. Murlynd produced a small fistful of components from his spellpouch and began his incantations. As he waved his closed fist through the air in an intricate and ever-faster pattern, his fist began to glow like it was on fire. Finally, as the spell ended, Murlynd opened his fist and let fly a small ball of fire that flew through the opening to the cavern and well into its interior. There was a bright flash of white light and heat that could be felt all the way to where the adventurers were standing. When the light and the heat died down, the room was now warm instead of cold.

As the party moved slowly back into the cavern, they could see ice shrinking before their eyes and water pooling on the cavern floor. The adventurers looked into the ice and impatient, greedy eyes reflected back at them. Only Tenser saw another reflection in the ice by him. It was reflected from one of the shelves above them and it almost made him freeze in his tracks to see it. It slithered over the edge of the blackish-brown rock like a giant, white snake with a fin or comb on the back of its head. Tenser could see it open enormous jaws and see the pink interior of its mouth. When he forced his head to look up, he could see the huge, serpentine monster looking down at him, its clawed feet rested on the lip of the shelf. Giant, leathery wings slowly unfolded from the monster's back.

"Dragon!" Tenser shouted.

"Scatter!" Murlynd shouted, without even looking for the dragon. This was not their first dragon.

Yrag backed up to the entrance of the cave, looking for cover. Terik tried to run further into the cave, but hit a patch of melting ice and his feet slid out from underneath him. Serten ran, a bit more carefully, to the right hoping to reach a column in time for cover. Murlynd ran to the left, fumbling in his spellpouch for components. Tenser ran straight ahead, saw Terik go down, and used the ice to skid across it for speed. While he slid on the ice, he grabbed his new wand from his belt.

The white dragon breathed, and a cone of ice appeared in the air before its open jaws. The ice spread towards the ground right at the entrance to the cave. Serten and Terik scrambled out of the way of the ice, but Yrag was too slow and was half-encased in the ice before it stopped spreading. Huge chunks of ice were now blocking the exit of the cavern. Yrag, glowing sword in hand, swung at the ice that trapped him from almost the waist-down and chipped off what he could.

The room was cold again now and the melting ice refroze, making it more slippery than ever. Serten and Terik were having trouble rising to their feet. Serten settled for kneeling and began to pray. Murlynd, who had cast his last memorized fireball spell, let loose a lightning bolt spell instead. There was a brilliant blast of white light as electricity crackled between Murlynd's outstretched hands and where the dragon was, but the white dragon was airborne already, having leapt off its shelf in time that the lightning bolt missed on its first pass. The bolt glanced off the rock shelf and angled back through the dragon's right wing. The dragon let out a terrific roar as it swooped to the ground, its wings beating frigid air down on the adventurers below with a great wooshing sound. Tenser could barely hear himself speaking the command words for his new wand over the din, but when he was done, motes of energy began to appear around the tip of the wand and a stream of twinkling magical energy poured out of the wand's tip. Tenser aimed the wand in the path of the falling dragon and struck it squarely. The dragon went stiff and hit the floor hard. It shook off the effect fast, though, and was on its feet faster than anyone else had managed so far on the ice.

Terik had fumbled on the ice and managed to drop his magic sword so that it slid away from him. The dragon was sitting close enough to him that Terik kicked the dragon's leg to push himself across the ice to his sword. His hand closed over the hilt, but as he regained his weapon, the dragon pounced on top of him. The dragon, like all its kind, was surprisingly light for its immense size, so Terik was pinned underneath instead of crushed. As it had pounced, its long tail had whipped about hard enough that it hit Serten with enough force to knock him down and disrupt his request for a minor miracle. These were incidentals for the dragon, whose attention was mainly on the spellcaster who had left its right wing blackened and useless. It spat ice in Murlynd's direction, but Murlynd had already cast a spell that opened a doorway in space beside him. He leapt through and the doorway disappeared just as the volley of ice soared through that very spot.

The dragon whirled its head around on its long, snaky neck to face the last human still on his feet. Tenser was casting the best offensive spell he still had memorized. From Tenser's outstretched hands, sticky webbing began to spew form like from a spider's spinneret – only yards and yards of it. A net of webbing fanned out at the dragon, adhering to his snow white hide. By waving his hands, Tenser could spread the webbing to the floor and past the dragon to the wall behind it, until the whole tangled mess was anchoring the dragon to the spot.

Tenser had bought himself time to review his options. He could not see Yrag, as the dragon was between them, but he had to assume Yrag was still stuck tight. Terik was stuck now too – some friend Tenser was to him, trapping the dragon on top of him! Still, that did not compare to Murlynd's treachery, using a dimension door spell to flee while leaving everyone else with the dragon. Serten, at least, had managed to not only dodge the webbing, but regained his footing. He was standing now, raising his mace to strike. Good old, Serten!

"Have at thee, fiend!" Serten shouted as he swung a five-pound mace in a crushing blow onto the dragon's side where the webbing covered it thinnest.

The dragon roared again, though it sounded more like a roar of frustration than of pain. The dragon tried to turn its head to bite Serten, but web was anchoring its neck too far back. Then the dragon breathed again, this time vomiting up a thick, sleet-like mist. Serten fell back from the freezing touch of the mist, but the dragon turned its breath weapon past Serten and sprayed it directly on its body. The webbing on that side of its body quickly turned to brittle ice and shattered into fragments as the dragon pulled against it.

Tenser had his new wand back in hand and was pointing it at the dragon. The dragon had seemed to go rigid briefly when Tenser fired the wand at him before and he was gambling the dragon was too injured now to shake off the effect a second time. And it was a gamble. The dragon looked around the room and determined that Tenser was the only threat left. The dragon looked like it was going to pounce again, tightening up its body in a crouching stance more like a cat than a reptile. Tenser began to say the magic words that activated the wand.

Before Tenser finished, four glowing arrows rained down on the dragon from above. The arrows all hit their mark and sank into its hide before disappearing. Above, Murlynd stood on the ledge from which the dragon had first appeared and looked pleased with the results of his magic missile spell. The dragon reared up, its neck stretching tall and tensed. It hissed and gurgled, belching up a much smaller cloud of frost. Then it slowly fell forward. Its body hit the floor, then its neck, and finally its head crashed to the icy floor. Before it hit the floor, its eyes lost their look of intelligence, the eyelids grew droopy, and then closed for the last time as the dragon breathed its last. Its wings drooped down over the body, the blackened one on top like a shroud. Behind the dragon, Tenser could see Yrag now. Yrag had only chipped one leg free before switching weapons to his bow and the evidence of real arrows plunged into the dragon's back could now be seen. From beneath the dragon, Terik could be heard cursing madly.

"Get it off!" Terik was shouting. "Get this thing off me before I drown!"

The meaning became clear as Yrag, Tenser, and Serten worked together to free Terik from underneath the carcass. Terik was covered in dragon gore. The dragon had thrashed around enough while on top of him that Terik managed to turn his blade facing up and impaled the dragon from underneath. Death had come for the monster from practically every side.

"I'd help," Murlynd called down, "but I think you'd rather join me up here than have me come down. There's a second, smaller cave up here and it looks like this is where the dragon kept the best of his treasure horde!"

Everyone looked at each other and smiled. The dragon was dead. Its treasure was theirs now. Serten and Murlynd began discussing how they would melt the ice to reach the frozen treasure, while Yrag and Terik began discussing how Murlynd could secure a rope so they could all reach him. Tenser watched them all with extra amusement. His comrades-in-arms – his friends – had all come through for each other. Yes, they all had their own motivations for wanting the dragon's treasure, but he doubted any of them were thinking of the treasure at the last. They thought of saving each other, and what more could Tenser ask from a friend?


	3. Chapter 3

574

Tenser disliked Wayfarers Row. It was an old street, thought not as old as some in the City of Greyhawk, and it had stubbornly held onto its name despite the fact that no one could remember why it was called that. A better name would have been Magicians Row, as that is what the street had become. Here was a double row of shops where magic was for sale. The magicians were almost uniformly disillusioned former students of the Wizards College, men and women who had thought the mystic arts was an easy route to prosperity found they had graduated heavily indebted to the college and with only a handful of parlor tricks to show for it. The smart, or lucky, ones had found ways to market what they knew to people who could afford no better. So here was Rasche's Courtship Service, launched by a charm person spell, and Blume's Somnambulatorium was inspired by a sleep spell. These shop names were displayed on cheap plaques affixed to peeling plaster facades. To Tenser, Wayfarers Row represented the weak, ineffectual sort of people who had a lofty goal once, but did not try hard enough to attain it. He held them in a special sort of disdain, knowing that just a few miles away they could have sought adventure and found treasure enough to let them live like kings when they returned to the city.

There was only one reason Tenser kept coming back to Wayfarers Row and that was Ehlissa's Bird Shop. Halfway down the row of shops, on the right hand side, was one that sat a little taller and a little wider than the others. Its beams did not sag and its plaster was in better repair. It had a large shop window that un-shuttered in the morning, stayed propped open all day, and allowed people passing by to see a large cage full of songbirds of all colors. The cage was made from a fine, silvery, sturdy wire that had resisted more than one burglary attempt. It should have for the amount Tenser had paid for it, since the wire was crafted from mithril and forged by the dwarves of the Cairn Hills.

Ehlissa was inside her shop, as she usually was. When she saw Tenser, her face lit up and her smile made her freckled nose wrinkle. She was dressed as she had always preferred to, in the fashion of a male artisan. A simple bonnet held back her braided hair, which was her only feminine concession. She sat down a bird that had been perched on her hand and rushed to greet her old friend. "What a wonderful surprise!" she said.

"Good to see you again too," Tenser said as they exchanged a quick hug. "I wanted to let you know I was back safely."

"And how is Castle Greyhawk these days?" she asked. "How deep have you gone now? A ninth level?"

"I have, but not this last trip. Serten and I, and that new friend of ours, Ayelerarch, went only as deep as the seventh level. And we came so close to catching the Jeweled Man this time! I thought for sure a wall of force would hold it."

"Oh…I'm sorry," she said with honest sympathy. "You'll catch it someday."

"It's all right. Instead, we found these." Tenser opened a small sack and showed her it was filled with jewels.

"Oh my! These are lovely. But I don't understand – I thought you had already cleared out the seventh level months ago."

"We had, but the dungeon has changed again. There's a whole new section of the seventh level now. We saw a sign for the Greyhawk Construction Company again, but no sign of any builders. Serten thinks the sign is just a ruse. That the dungeon is alive and always growing."

"Is that what you think?"

"Well, I don't know."

"How is Ayelerarch working out?"

"Oh, he's great! He's a paladin, you know. Just the sort of good guy Yrag has always pestered me about adventuring with. The complete opposite of Robilar."

"And how is Robilar? Is he still adventuring with the rest of the old gang?"

"No…" Tenser said with a scowl. He turned from Ehlissa and pretended to admire her birds. "Most of them don't adventure together anymore. Murlynd is obsessed with this portal we found that leads to another world. Robilar says he's found a tenth level under the castle already, but since he adventures alone now no one can verify that. Worst of all is Mordenkainen. Ever since Robilar started adventuring solo, Mordenkainen has been doing the same and having the most incredible luck. He found a staff of power on the eighth level after I'd already been there. It's almost like he already knows where all the best treasure is."

"I'm sure that's not so," Ehlissa said. "You should be glad he's becoming so powerful. He'll be of great help to you the next time you adventure together."

Tenser sighed. "Ayelerarch says he wants to recruit someone else to our group, this fellow named Erac." He turned his gaze back to Ehlissa. "I do wish you would come back to the group. I'm sure that if you tried adventuring again you'd like it."

"And rob you boys of your toys? No, I don't need a split from the party treasure horde. I'm happy with your occasional gift and the money I make from hard work."

"Hard work? Selling birds?" Tenser asked with thinly veiled sarcasm.

"Yes," Ehlissa said defensively. "Spell research isn't easy you know. And listen to what my spell can do now." She turned excited before she began invoking magical words and gesturing to a certain songbird in the cage. When she was done, the bird began to sing the most amazingly melodious song, well out of the normal range of a bird.

"That's…nice," Tenser said shortly, before the spell ended.

"You don't have to pretend to like it," Ehlissa said, her arms crossed and still voicing her irritation. "I know you have no ear for music. In fact, you shouldn't be dallying too long here anyway. I had a visitor earlier this very day. The Lady Endelar was asking me if I had heard any news of you and here you are back in town again."

Tenser's eyes lit up at the mention of Endelar. She was the daughter of one of the richest artisans in the city, and a gifted cartographer in her own right. She was also young, pretty, and very attractive. Tenser was so excited at the prospect of seeing her again that he turned and almost left without another word to Ehlissa. Then he thought better of it, turned back to Ehlissa, and reached into his treasure sack.

"Save your gifts this time, Tenser," Ehlissa said, trying to keep herself from sounding angry. "Endelar will need more of them than I ever will."

Tenser was puzzled by that statement, but did not pursue it. He simply smiled as if Ehlissa had made a joke, thanked her earnestly for the good news, and made his way out of her shop. He made a mental list of places he would most likely find Endelar and, thankfully, the list was rather short. She was not a worldly woman, but that was fine with him. Her innocence reminded him of himself just a year or two ago. She might even make a good adventurer someday if her fiery temper could be directed towards more productive violence.

Tenser's thoughts turned to warmer aspects of his lady as he made his way back down Wayfarers Row. He was smiling and lifting his pace in anticipation of finding her when he was hailed. Looking around, he soon spotted Robilar emerging from a light crowd of foot traffic on Harper Street. He soon spied Terik, still a frequent companion of Robilar's, trailing behind. Out of curiosity, he waited for them to approach.

"Tenser!" Robilar said when they drew close enough. "Are we glad to find you. We need a spellcaster."

"I'm a little busy right now," Tenser said. "I certainly don't have time to go exploring anywhere."

"No, it's not that!" Terik said. Robilar had seemed eager to speak to Tenser, but Terik seemed genuinely afraid of something. He kept glancing around himself nervously and looked flush in the face. "We need you to dispel something," he added in a lower voice.

"What do you mean by 'dispel something'?" Tenser asked with an eyebrow raised menacingly.

"It was Robilar's fault!" Terik said, angrily jerking his thumb at his companion.

"No it wasn't," Robilar countered confidently. He turned from Terik to Tenser and explained, "We were having new magic items identified by one of the apprentices of the Mage of the Tower, who volunteered to identify a potion for free since we were bringing him so much business. He said it was a potion of fire resistance and bought it off of us, since he knew Terik already had one. Later, Terik describes the potion to Mordenkainen and he says it sounded a lot like a potion of treasure finding he once had. Terik gets mad, tracks down this apprentice at a nearby tavern, and loudly threatens to cut off his manhood if he ever cheats him, and makes disparaging remarks about his parentage."

"You told me he had a sense of humor!" Terik protested.

"Well, he does have a sense of humor – a sick one. He went to his master and asked him to summon an invisible stalker to hunt down Terik."

Tenser sighed and shook his head. "I don't know if I can just magically dispel it now, and I certainly don't have any abjuration spells memorized right now anyway. Can't you just kill it?"

Terik threw out his arms and said, "Show me where to swing!"

He had a point. Tenser looked around. The roads here were both twice as wide as the average dungeon corridor. There was too much background noise to listen for someone invisible sneaking up on anyone. The streets were open to the sky and the stalker could even be moving on the rooftops, waiting for the right time to pounce down. Tenser was beginning to understand why Terik was so worried. "All right," Tenser said at last. "We'll go to the inn I'm staying at and fetch my spellbooks. Then we should be able to deal with this thing. In the meanwhile, have you considered buying a guard dog? A dog will bark if it smells something it can't see."

"Great idea," Robilar said. "I know a stable that sells animals and it's not far."

Lucien's Stables were only a block and a half from the intersection where the three adventurers had met, which was an easy jog for three healthy men in a hurry. The proximity of the stable was evident by the increasing frequency of animal life, cats and goats mainly, attracted by the smell of other animals and food from inside. They all stopped, Robilar and Tenser intending to wait outside while Terik went in to conduct his business. Terik kept his hand on the hilt of his sword and entered with such caution that both of his companions felt sorry for him and joined him inside. Tenser was also glad to go in because a persistent goat kept coming up to him and sniffing his spellpouch, despite being pushed away once and then kicked the second time. He could not imagine which of his spell components would seem tastiest to a goat, but he was not about to lose it to one.

The stables opened to the street through two wide double doors that were held open during business hours. The floor inside was littered with straw and animal feces, through which birds and mice openly rooted while cats waited to pounce on them. A running altercation between cat and mouse crossed Terik's path and he nearly cut off the cat's tail with his sword before realizing it was not the stalker. The entrance was open to the stable's high, peaked roof with only half a second floor – more of a balcony, really – serving as a hayloft above them. The hayloft was supported with wooden posts. At the rear of the entrance was a pair of chained up mastiffs and, hanging above them, a lit lantern that shed additional light on this scene. The dogs were on short leashes, which seemed appropriate because their manner was fierce and their barking ferocious.

"I would rather do business with you if you put your sword away first," Lucien the Stablekeeper said upon entering from the rear of the stables. He was a dirty, unkempt man in raggedy clothes, but he was made of stern stuff not to back down from Terik's shining blade.

"Alas, he cannot," Robilar lied with the natural air of a practiced liar. "He is cursed and cannot sheathe his weapon."

"Most sad," Lucien responded. "How can I help you gentlemen?"

"We are in need of guard dogs," Terik said. "Those two mastiffs would do, if they are for sale. From the sound of their barking, they seem fierce enough."

"They certainly can be," Lucien agreed, "but they are not normally this loud. They started barking like this only when you entered."

"Only when we entered…" Robilar echoed as he unsheathed his own sword with a flash of magical ambience. His eyes were fixed on the dogs. He moved sideways and observed the dogs were not following his movement while they barked. They were looking somewhere else.

"It's here," Tenser said, having made the same guess. He fumbled through his spellpouch, considered his memorized spells, and wished he had chosen more combat-related magic during this stay in town.

Tenser, Robilar, and Terik formed a triangle around the perimeter of the stable room. The stablekeeper backed away from them, motivated by uncertainty as to their intentions.

"Watch the straw on the floor!" Robilar called out. "If it moves, we'll spot it."

The three men made slow, coordinated movements, each backing closer to a wall while scanning the floor for any disturbance.

"Nothing is moving…" Terik observed impatiently.

"Gentlemen!" Lucien called out from a safe distance. "There's no one there! Please, don't act rashly!"

Robilar glanced all around the room, even above them at the hayloft. "Oh, I think rash acts sound perfect for right about now…" he muttered quietly. He gripped the hilt of his sword with both hands and swung it as hard as he could into the nearby post supporting the hayloft. Anyone else might have chipped the wood, or at best seen their blade embedded in the side of the post for their trouble. Robilar was wearing strength-enhancing gauntlets of ogre power and wielding an enchanted mithril sword – both prizes won beneath Castle Greyhawk in the deepest levels of its dungeon. The post was severed almost clean through in one cut, and a simple kick dislodged the sword and shivered the post in twain. It had been a rash act and would have looked quite foolish had the post been more ornamental in nature, but as luck would have it the post was vital to supporting the weight of all the hay above it. The balcony groaned, boards splintered, and the suddenly sagging hayloft dislodged a small avalanche of hay onto the floor below.

"There!" Robilar shouted as he pointed into the midst of the falling hay. He could clearly see where straws were landing on something man-sized, but unseen in the middle of the room. Already the intruder was brushing or shaking them off, but Robilar charged at it while shouting a battle cry. Something firm yielded under the force of his blow. He was sure he had sliced into something, but no blood, ichor, or other bodily fluids were shed.

Tenser, who had stood furthest from the balcony, had also spotted the stalker outlined against the falling hay. He cast one of his fastest spells memorized. It only took six seconds to cast a magic missile spell, but Tenser could only see the outline of the stalker for five. As he waved his hand in the final gesture of the spell, four glowing-white arrows appeared in the air in front of him and launched at the stalker, but lacking a clear target they sputtered and fizzled until they disappeared without having struck anything.

Robilar was slicing the air furiously in the middle of the room. Terik had been distracted by the falling hay and missed the outline, but he knew what Robilar was doing and positioned himself opposite Robilar. Swinging both their swords in wild, wide-swinging arcs, they hoped to trap the stalker between them and then slowly close in. Their plan was thwarted when the stalker managed to reach Terik's left flank while he was following through a swing. The stalker struck Terik with a powerful blow that lifted him off his feet and hurled him three feet. Terik landed on one knee and caught his balance. The fighters were afraid the stalker would press its advantage, but instead saw or heard its feet --or something like feet -- crush down the fresh-fallen hay between it and the entrance to the stable. It had not been after Terik so much as it was clearing a path past him to the exit, which he had been unwittingly blocking.

Robilar started after their fleeing foe at once, not even pausing while he barked commands to the others. "Terik, buy those dogs! Tenser, block the entrance and don't let it double back on me!"

Terik sighed and turned to the stablekeeper. "How much for the dogs?"

"How much for the dogs?" Lucien echoed incredulously. "Your friend just wrecked my whole building!"

"In case you need reminding," Terik said angrily, "I am the one holding a sword and you are unarmed…"

"Terik!" Tenser called out. "This is not a dungeon. There are laws here!"

Terik sighed twice as loudly as before. He un-tucked a pouch from his belt with his free hand and forced the pouch open with his fingers. He scooped out a handful of ornamental gemstones, about a dozen lapis lazuli, and pounded them into the stablekeeper's hand. "That should cover it," he forced himself to say politely.

Robilar reappeared at the entrance. "Terik!" Robilar shouted. "Hurry! I've lost it and need those dogs!"

The dogs were set loose, or rather the chains that held the dogs were set loose and sold with the dogs as leashes. They were huge beasts, weighing almost as much as a man (or as much as Tenser, at any rate, as he was a slender man), and powerfully strong. Terik had difficulty reining his dog in, though Robilar was having no difficulty thanks to his enchanted gauntlets. That still did not keep him from quickly becoming upset about his new pet.

"Why aren't they picking up the scent?" Robilar asked in frustration.

"You had Terik buy guard dogs, not hunting dogs," Tenser said. "Hopefully," he added in a quieter voice, "invisible stalkers will not know the difference and will remain wary as long as you have them."

"Good thinking!" Robilar said, sounding cheerier.

They made slow progress, trying to guide their dogs in the desired direction. Every so often the dogs would stop and smell something. Robilar or Terik would start to go for his sword before someone would guess that the dogs were sniffing something more mundane yet curiously enchanting to the dogs, like the garbage lining the gutter or the dung stuck to the bottom of a man's shoe. Terik once almost lost his dog to the pursuit of a passing cat.

In this fashion they had only cleared two city blocks when Tenser spotted the Lady Endelar standing ahead of them. She had clearly already spotted Tenser and was waiting for him to reach her. She quietly stood there with her hands clasped before her, her emotions impossible to read. She was the picture of fashion, with her headdress cascading down into the folds of her long gown. A servant held the train of her dress, elevating it above the filth on the street. For Tenser, the saving of Terik was forgotten at the sight of Endelar. All he could remember was her gentle laugh, the day in private she had let him see her with her head uncovered and her hair down, the quiet understanding made between them that someday he might see more, and the sack full of jewels he intended to shower on her. He outstretched his arms to her and drew closer as if he was being swept along by the current of a powerful river and only stopped when his flight of fancy was interrupted by Robilar's harsh voice.

"Tenser, keep up! What are you doing?" he shouted.

Tenser looked around as if he was waking up. "Endelar, my darling," he said, "as much as I want to spend the whole day sharing with you the tale of my recent adventures, my friends here have urgent need of me. It seems I am—"

"My lord," Endelar said quietly, only subtly cutting off Tenser. "It is important that I speak with you."

"Yes, but—"

"It is important that I speak with you, right now."

Tenser replied with an imploring look, like Terik's dog looked at him while he tugged on its leash. Endelar simply stepped forward closer to Tenser and said in an even quieter, but sterner voice, "If you wish there to remain any understanding between us, we will talk right now."

Tenser sighed, defeated. He turned around and looked at his impatient comrades-in-arms. "Go on without me," he told them. "I'm staying at the Blue Dragon Inn. I'll catch up to you when I can."

Both Robilar and Terik looked like they wanted to protest, but they had taken in the situation and saw that Tenser's situation was somehow even more grave than Terik's. They moved on.

The next challenge was finding a quiet place to talk. They were on a street of craftsmen's shops and the woodworkers and blacksmiths were noisy. The street was far from deserted, with nearly a dozen travelers following it one way and nearly as many heading towards them from the other direction. There was an alcove of sorts between two shops, lined with three benches facing each other. The benches were occupied by a trio of craftsmen on break, sharing a snack and chatting. Tenser offered them each a copper common in exchange for them chatting somewhere else. Once they were safely seated in comfort and enjoying as much privacy as they could find, Tenser waited patiently for Endelar to explain this strange insistence.

"Firstly," Endelar began, "let me say how glad I am that you have returned from Castle Greyhawk safe."

"It was nothing," Tenser said, impatiently brushing off the pleasantries.

"Ah, such a worthy choice of words, my lord," Endelar continued, "as 'nothing' is the very subject I wanted to discuss with you. Imagine, if you can, my distress as I waited for your return from your latest expedition under Castle Greyhawk. Although the castle is little more than several miles from our fair city, you have long convinced me that these expeditions are time-consuming and that days could pass before I would hear from you again. And so I suffered, day after day, wondering what was going on down there and if any harm had become of you at the hands of the dungeon's many monstrous denizens. Fearful of the worst, I even took – very recently – to visiting some of your old acquaintances in the hopes of gleaning more knowledge of the challenges you might be facing, so that my prayers for your safety would more ably protect you."

"Oh, darling, that is so sweet!" Tenser said, his features stretched into a happy smile and his heart beating as hard as if he were still running after the Jeweled Man.

"Imagine my surprise," Endelar continued, unmoved by Tenser's obvious affection, "when I learned by chance that you had already returned to town and that I had to learn this from hearsay."

"Oh, but that is easily explained!" Tenser said. "I was planning to let you know next thing, when I was intercepted by my friends Robilar and Terik. You just saw them now, hastening from here on the most urgent of business."

"It must be urgent indeed to have distracted you. Although, as I understand it, your first stop upon returning to the city was not coming to see me. It was going to see Ehlissa at her silly little bird shop."

Tenser glanced at Endelar's servant, a short, plain, chubby woman, and wondered if that cherub face masked Endelar's spy. Suppressing such thoughts, he returned to bolstering his defenses. "It was a minor delay, my love, tied to the expedition itself. Once it was fully over I would have announced myself to you, not as an active adventurer, but as your passionate admirer and suitor."

"And you could not have done this sooner?" she said, as if explaining something simple to a child. "You say you are a mighty sorcerer. Have you no spell that would have conjured a messenger to inform me?"

"Perhaps so, my dear, but I was weary from the expedition and not thinking—"

"Weary, but not so weary that you could go see Ehlissa first?"

"Are you truly just worried about her?" Tenser said, almost laughing with surprise. "Ehlissa means nothing to me! I mean, she has been like a sister – like a brother to me! If I have wronged you at all, it has been only because I wanted to show her – this 'brother' of mine – all the many gifts I had brought back for you and brag, as brothers will show off to one another."

Endelar's face finally softened and her voice became more pleasant. "Oh, Tenser! I really am so fond of you. I just wish you felt about us like I do."

"I do!" Tenser protested. "I will prove it to you in any way that is within my power. Set me a task and I will meet it!"

"Silly Tenser," Endelar laughed, "you think me foolish enough to send you on yet another quest so soon? The only task I wish of you is to sit with me and share these gifts you say you have for me."

Tenser wanted to dump all the treasure on his person at her feet, but remembered where he was. Then he remembered what he had been doing. "The street is no place to share such things with you," he said, taking her hands in his. "Besides, not everything I wish to show you is on me now. If you will, please come with me back to my inn. There I will fetch the last of the things I need and then we can discuss where best to sit and examine them."

Endelar seemed pleased with this, for she even spoke to her servant in a friendly manner as she commanded her to carry her train again. Tenser took her by the arm and puffed out his chest as they strutted down the street. No longer were they a quarreling couple, but were a good-looking man and beautiful woman showing off each other to everyone they passed.

They were soon skirting the boundary between the Craft District and the Foreign Quarter. It was still mostly shops they were passing, but now the paint was a little brighter, the signs a little bolder, and the shop names a little more exotic. A dwarf was dusting the front step outside his coppersmithy with a broom while his partner leaned out the shop window holding a necklace for Endelar to ignore as she passed it. At the next intersection they crossed, they looked down the side street and saw city guardsmen escorting a man holding the reins of a hooded hippogriff as the winged beast walked along behind him. Pedestrians sharing the street with it showed a mixture of marveling at it and being annoyed by the inconvenience of its wingspan. Endelar admired the creature and Tenser promised to buy her one if she wished it. The next street would turn and connect with the Processional, the main street that led straight to Tenser's inn. As they approached, they heard dogs howling and the sounds of a larger commotion than the hippogriff had caused.

Around the corner laid one of the two mastiffs Terik had bought. It whimpered piteously, no doubt from some unseen injury. Terik was there, standing on the other side of an overturned tinker's cart with his sword in hand, the wares from the cart spilled all over the street. Terik was watching Robilar and the other mastiff, both of whom were next to a building further down. The dog was leaning against the building and barking its head off towards the tile-shingled roof. A squad of city guardsmen was advancing from the Processional to deal with the disturbance, the owner of the cart pointing the way.

"Tenser, let us—" Endelar said, but Tenser held up his hand to silence her. He was busy watching the scene.

"I'll follow it! Try to chase it back down!" Robilar was shouting. He spoke the command words for his enchanted boots of levitation and slowly floated off the ground. As soon as he was high enough to reach the corner of the roof, he grabbed the edge and pulled himself onto it.

"How do I climb up there?" Terik asked out loud, clearly frustrated. He began to shoulder the overturned tinker's cart as if to push it closer to the building.

"Terik!" Tenser cried out, seized by a sudden inspiration. "We passed a hippogriff one street back!"

Terik's eyes lit up slowly. "Great idea!" he declared and sprinted past Tenser and Endelar.

"Stand where you are!" a guardsman shouted. Half of the squad shouldered light crossbows and dropped them into firing position.

"Get behind me!" Tenser said to Endelar as he stood between the guardsmen and Terik's back. He was counting on his magical bracers of defense deflecting the missiles if they came their way, but since that did not always work, he seriously wanted another option.

Robilar was standing on the roof now, watching the roof tiles. He saw the tiles moving as if stepped on in a row leading across the roof away from him. Looking down, he noticed Terik was moving on a parallel course. He began running after it. He also spotted Tenser below. "Tenser!" he shouted down as he picked up speed. "It's still after Terik! Try to stop it!"

The guardsmen had reached Tenser already, but he ignored them. As Terik tore down the street away from them, Tenser turned his eyes to Robilar and his rooftop chase. Robilar was almost to the end of the roof, so the stalker was likely to either turn and fight or jump off the roof. A guard was saying something to Tenser, but he continued to ignore the man. Finally, Tenser's concentration to the scene paid off, as he noticed a small cloud of dust and dirt kicked up on the street near the intersection by seemingly nothing at all. The stalker had jumped.

Tenser was aware that Endelar was saying things to him, but he simply grabbed her by the arm and swung her behind him as he pivoted to face the invisible stalker. He began to cast a spell. Two guardsmen, sensing he was a threat, tried to grab him, but the bracers of defense made him a difficult target to grapple. The careful, yet well-practiced incantation went uninterrupted. When it was done, gouts of magical webbing flowed from his hands and tangled volumes of it began to fill up the street as far as the intersection. The web outpaced the stalker and enveloped it, the stalker now clearly outlined by its covering. The stalker was not held fast, though. It seemed to slough off the webbing as if it had no place to stick. At most, it was being slowed down.

Robilar was down on the street again now, surrounded by guardsmen, just like Tenser now realized he was. Robilar was not concerned about that – he was cursing at Tenser. "How am I supposed to catch that thing through all this?" Robilar said once he could bring himself to speak coherently. "What were you thinking?"

Tenser turned red. Having Endelar question him was one thing, but letting Robilar do it was something else. He had half a mind to – but then his thoughts returned to Endelar, who he realized he had forgotten during the altercation. A guard was holding Endelar by the hand, but she did not look angry at the guard – again, someone was angry with him. When his eyes met hers, he could see it.

"You're still adventuring," she said accusingly. "Even when you said you were done, you are still adventuring."

"Sirs, you are both under arrest," said a persistent guardsman to Tenser and Robilar.

Robilar slouched his shoulders and sighed, looking defeated. He shook his head and said, "I guess this kills my social standing in town." With that, he rammed the pommel of his sword into the talking guard's stomach. The guard lost some of his lunch and then fell into it on the street, still clutching his gut. Robilar stayed close to the nearest guards so the crossbowmen would not fire and moved quickly enough that he was able to punch a second guard off his feet before anyone could raise a weapon against him.

Tenser glanced into the web and saw no signs that the stalker was still there. If not for all these distractions, maybe he could have finished it by now! He spoke several more magic words and the webs all melted away. Despite the threat Robilar was posing to their rank and file, two of the guards still judged Tenser the more dangerous threat. One stood nearby with a sword aimed at Tenser, while his partner further back kept a crossbow aimed at him.

"No more spells, magician!" the sword-wielder said bravely, "or we will be forced to harm you!"

Tenser gave them a smile that turned into a sneer. He turned to go look for Terik and the stalker, only to hear a crossbow bolt loosed at his back. Tenser turned in time to see the tear in his robes where the bolt had passed by him and to see the swordsmen attacking him as well. Tenser immediately had an enchanted dagger in hand and parried the longer weapon. This guard might know how to handle a sword well enough, but Tenser waged he had ten times this man's experience in a fight.

The efforts of the lawmen to enforce law had been turned around and produced chaos! The melee was moving swiftly, but with neither side winning. Tenser and Robilar were avoiding lethal blows, while at the same time keeping from being overborne by superior numbers. Tenser lost his grip on Endelar as there was no way he could continue to defend himself one-handed. This allowed him to maneuver behind Robilar, at least.

"Buy me half a minute!" Tenser told Robilar. Robilar responded by spinning his sword in a savage display of prowess in front of him as well as before each flank while growling like a mad dog – it proved sufficiently impressive that the guardsmen pressing him fell to the defensive instead of watching for an opening to attack. Tenser cast another spell, one of the same magnitude of power as his web spell. This time, it was a greenish gas that poured from his fingertips instead of grey webbing. He started aiming it at the guardsmen on Robilar's left flank. Robilar smelled the odor, recognized the spell, and swiveled around Tenser on his right. This left Tenser free to direct the rapidly growing fog bank swirling from his hands at the entire squad. To a man, they fell to their knees, dropping their weapons, and retching uncontrollably.

Into this scene returned Terik, mounted on a borrowed hippogriff. It clawed at the air with its bird-like feet, choking at the bridle being pulled on furiously in its mouth as Terik, reins in hand, flung back and forth in the saddle. At first it looked like Terik was simply having a rough time controlling his monstrous steed, but then Tenser noticed that Terik was gritting his teeth hard and appeared to be in pain. His head was tipped to one side and he would arch his back forward like he was being punched in the spine by someone holding him in a headlock.

"The stalker has Terik!" Tenser declared for Robilar's benefit. Then they both cleared out of the way as the hippogriff turned straight towards them! Tenser dove for the ground while Robilar let the wing feathers brush over his body. In an instant, the hippogriff was flying straight into the stinking cloud and Terik, who had jumped clear, was rolling on the ground and came to a stop just outside the cloud. He lied there on his hands and knees, gasping and groaning, until Robilar helped him to his feet.

Terik released a string of expletives related to the stalker, ending in, "and I hope it chokes and dies in there! That's Tenser's spell, right?"

Robilar simply nodded. "Come on," he said as if to both, but was looking at Tenser, "we have to reach that inn."

Nearby, Endelar was thankfully free of the cloud, but still coughing from the stench of it. Her headdress had fallen off in all the confusion. Her head looked smaller without it. Her long, black hair was pulled back in a simple braid and, for some reason, Tenser was struck now with the impression that her face was actually quite average-looking. Tenser went to grab her arm again, but she shrank away from his touch with surprising speed. "No!" she shrieked. "I am going no where with you, Tenser, until you choose who you wish to go with. Them or me, Tenser?" Now her face looked ugly, with anger and resentment carved into every feature.

Tenser did not want to give voice to his initial reaction. This side of Endelar was a complete surprise to him and it was not a welcome one. This choice she was giving him felt like a betrayal – was a betrayal of everything about him she should have understood by now. The hurt and anger were things he had never directed toward her before and he felt both afraid and ashamed to show either. He hid both and simply said, "Make no rash decisions until we talk on this again. I have to do this." Robilar and Terik remained silent, perhaps out of respect, as Tenser came to them and helped Robilar support a hobbling Terik. If Endelar said anything else to him, it was said to his back and lost under the din of the fog-blinded hippogriff crashing into sickly guardsmen behind her. Tenser, Robilar, and Terik continued their journey to Tenser's spellbooks. The stalker followed.

The wind was picking up, gusting through the city streets and clearing away the people who were not outside for any particular good reason. It was a fresh, cool breeze that felt good to most people and brought with it a welcome relief from the stagnant smells of the city. For the three adventurers bound for the Blue Dragon Inn, the wind felt like invisible claws tugging at their garments and trying to drag them back towards their stalker. This was just their imagination, as there was no magic spell that could duplicate that effect, or so Tenser explained. Since he was knowledgeable in the ways of magic, neither Robilar nor Terik brought up their doubts openly.

The Blue Dragon Inn was located in the Foreign Quarter proper – an area of the city enclosed by its own 15 foot high curtain wall. The gates to the Foreign Quarter were not always manned and the portcullises there tended to be left up until well past dusk. Despite these conveniences, the Foreign Quarter was still essentially a self-contained community. The Inn of the Blue Dragon, like any respectable inn, was itself a self-contained community. There was a public lodging house with attached tavern, separate stable, and a moneychanger's shop, with a privacy wall that enclosed the compound. There was a garden between the lodging house and the tavern with a well by it. There were crushed gravel paths leading to each building and grass everywhere else. Chickens were feeding in the grass by the stable, which must have doubled as a henhouse.

Tenser, Robilar, and Terik were all glad to throw as many walls between themselves and the invisible stalker as possible, even though they did not expect the walls to be more than an inconvenience to it. It would have been nice if the walls had been magically protected from invisible intruders, or at least lined with invisibility-detecting wizard-sentries. Tenser was fairly sure such warding spells existed and knew there were more secure areas in town with wizards guarding them, but here there was nothing like either. Perhaps, Tenser suggested, if more loot from the Castle Greyhawk expeditions was shared with the city, prosperity would lead to increased security. Robilar muttered something unfavorable about taxes and that was the end of that discussion.

Once they were inside the inn, Terik bribed the stable hands to close the gates to the compound. With silver in hand, the young men heaved closed heavy wooden gates that were unaccustomed to being closed this early and groaned at the effort.

"It is unfortunate," Tenser was explaining, "that I did not memorize more offensive spells today. Once I reach my spellbooks, though, we will—"

Tenser was cut off by a blow that felt like an invisible wall slamming into him. He flew off his feet and hit the ground hard, unconscious.

Robilar and Terik cursed and drew their swords simultaneously. They went back to back, knowing the stalker was here already.

"So much for Tenser," Terik said to Robilar. "Have a new plan?"

"I have a potion of healing in my belt pouch," Robilar said. "One of us could hold off the stalker while the other one pours it down Tenser's gullet and hope it wakes him before it chokes and kills him."

"And other than that plan?" Terik asked.

"We kill it," Robilar said.

The two fighters launched into action, stepping away from each other and swinging their swords in fast, wide-swinging arcs in erratic, unpredictable patterns. It was a desperate gamble that required the stalker be overconfident and too close. Terik was lucky.

"I hit it!" Terik cried as he felt his sword stopped abruptly by contact with nothing he could see.

Robilar spun around and circled around Terik, trying to catch the stalker between them again like they had tried in the barn. They moved off the beaten path leading up to the lodging house and into the grass by the inn's well and garden, keeping their eye on the grass. A tuft of grass flattened near Terik and he swung at it, but the grass lifted again before his sword reached it. Robilar heard a sound at the well and turned his sword towards it. He felt a heavy impact, not on his body, but on his sword blade. The impact knocked him back into Terik. His sword felt heavier in his hands, as if weighted down.

"Terik!" Robilar called out. "It's on my sword! I impaled it when it jumped off the well to attack me! Swing now!"

Robilar let go of his sword and dropped to the ground. He watched his sword hover in mid-air and slowly moved as if being dislodged from something.

Terik made a roundhouse swing with his sword, a powerful arc that intercepted the stalker not far above the floating sword. The floating sword hit the ground, as did a man-shaped impression in the grass. Terik lost no time in diving on the outline with his sword and stabbing there again. He only stopped when a gust of wind knocked him back and the outline in the grass disappeared.

Robilar crawled over to his sword, picked it up, and slowly rose to his feet. They both waited, listening quietly and watching everywhere. There was no longer any sign of the stalker.

"I think…I think it's really gone," Terik said.

"Just to be sure, let's wake Tenser," Robilar said.

Sensing the battle was over, the inn's hired hands and customers began to come out of hiding, intent on learning more about the commotion. There was whispered speculation that the two swordsmen had cut down the man in blue robes, but other witnesses said that was not so.

"What happened here?" the innkeeper asked. "Have you settled this dispute, or need I summon the law?"

"It seems to be over," Robilar said. "There is no need to summon the law. However, if you can produce a hunting dog for us in the next few minutes, I will give you a hundred gold pieces."

Luckily, Tenser did not choke on the healing potion that was fed to him. This had come up before in the dungeon and both men were all too familiar with feeding potions to unconscious comrades.

"Are we safe?" was Tenser's first question upon waking. "The stalker?"

Robilar and Terik simply helped him to his feet. "If you can talk, walk, and cast a spell, we'll soon know," Robilar responded. They helped Tenser to his room and waited patiently until he found the detect invisibility spell in his spellbook. He grumpily explained how casting it directly from his book without converting the magical energy to memory first would erase the spell from his book permanently. Robilar and Terik nodded like they understood and made vague promises of owing him.

Once the spell was cast, the fighters herded Tenser out of his room and made him walk around the inn as quickly as possible. When there was no sign of the stalker there, they widened their search to the streets around it. Only when Tenser announced that the spell's duration had ended did their moods change from wary to congratulatory. Robilar and Terik slapped each other on the back and then gave Tenser's slight frame such a slapping that they nearly knocked him over. Now Tenser's back was sore, in addition to what felt like a sprained nose from that blow the stalker had given him.

"This calls for a celebration!" Robilar declared. "Tenser, how is the wine here at the Blue Dragon?"

"Passable."

"Then the Green Dragon it is! Come, friends, let us celebrate in style!"

It was true that Tenser was not overly fond of the tavern part of the Blue Dragon Inn. For dining pleasure, he was much more partial to the Roc and Oliphant on Burnbook Lane. Its common room was unexceptional, but for those who could afford a private dining room the Roc offered a clean, mahogany table and chair. He could go there and relax with a stout, black ale and enjoy sliced pork or goose drenched in brandy. The walls were thick and little of the commotion of the common room would disturb him. If he was feeling more like socializing, the regulars were good, clean folk, mainly students and clerks unwinding. There was seldom any entertainment except for games and Tenser already had a reputation with the regulars for being unbeatable at chess.

Tenser was not interested in a private room, but neither was he interested in socializing. He had left the company of his friends, but did not desire to be alone. His sorrow felt so great, he felt, that it required an audience. He sat down on a bench at an empty table, ignored the familiar faces that nodded greetings to him, and tried to make it known as dramatically as possible that he desired to drink. In the place of his customary good manners, he dropped his coin purse on the table loudly and, when that still failed to perk a serving wench's ears, he produced two silver pieces from it and tossed them on the table. The nearest serving wench caught sight of the glittering coins and made her way over to their owner. She tried to make pleasant conversation, but Tenser recoiled from that as if her words pained him. He produced an empty flask and ordered, "As much ale as my silver will buy – and there will be more to follow after those two." The wench dutifully scooped up the silver nobles and went to fill a pitcher of ale from an open cask.

While watching her go, Tenser tried to remember her name. It would not come to his mind, but he did remember seeing her here many times before. He remembered seeing her with a husband, or at least a serious suitor. They laughed and had a good time, and then she kissed him on the cheek before he left. The memory was only of two strangers, casually remembered, yet it left a sour taste in his mouth that Tenser hoped the ale would replace.

"Keredy," she responded when Tenser asked her for her name.

She looked at least a few years younger than Tenser, who was now 28 (but Endelar would tell him he looked younger without his moustache). She had a homely face and wore her hair covered by a simple kerchief, but where the gods had blessed this simple girl was in the bosom, for here she was fuller than the pitcher she held. Keredy well knew the power of these assets and the cut of her dress accentuated them. Tenser held his emptied flask low to the table, forcing her to bend over more to refill it. She seemed used to this and made no comment or complaint, nor did she seem to be expecting a "thank you." Indeed, Keredy herself was no longer on Tenser's mind. His only thought was that this was more than he had ever seen of Endelar's body and that thought made him down the contents of his flask all the faster so he could thrust it out for another refill.

No one had dared approach Tenser yet, but now someone did. He was not one of the regulars, as far as Tenser recognized. He was a short man, or at least shorter than Tenser, and had ruddy cheeks and a long brown beard that hung down over his blue cote.

"You must be Tenser," the man said with a pleasant demeanor, "or else we have the very same tailor. I was told to look for the man who dresses all in blue."

"You have labeled me appropriately," Tenser said flatly, "as the color of my clothes mirror the soul of the man within. If you have come to try your luck against me in chess--"

"No, no, you mistake me for a gamer," the stranger said. "I am in fact a theurgist of no mean skill. Lidabmob is my name."

"I am sorry, but if you are seeking membership—"

"Again you misunderstand me," Lidabmob said, still smiling. "I will speak more plainly…but perhaps if you shared the contents of that pitcher with me it would aid my speech. Ah, you are too kind. I happen to have my own flask right here…yes, pour freely, good maid. I will trust you are a man of good taste, Tenser…ah, my trust was not misplaced. This is quite good indeed. May I ask if the brewer is local?"

"You were about to speak more plainly," Tenser prodded impatiently.

"Quite so. All right, if our server here will give us a few minutes of privacy, I will reach my point. It is true that, like yourself, I am an adventurer by trade. I also understand that you and the company you keep have maintained your monopoly on the riches under Castle Greyhawk by guarding its many entrances. The castle ruins themselves are garrisoned with dwarf and elf mercenaries in your employ, hired to keep out anyone save you and your friends. I have come to you to see if some understanding can be come to, whereby I might be allowed to bypass your guardians unmolested. Our goals are clearly one and the same that is to loot the dungeon of Castle Greyhawk. As long as we remain at odds, one of us loses – and I will accept for argument's sake that I would be the loser. Yet surely two minds such as ours can arrive at some solution whereby we could both benefit from sharing the dungeon…"

Tenser was shaking his head no already. "I am sorry," he said. "Perhaps your argument has merit and perhaps it has not, but in truth I can barely concentrate on the details of it."

"I am surprised, sir, as I do not feel this ale is quite that potent…"

"No, no!" Tenser said impatiently. "It is…serious matters vex me and make that wretched castle seem trivial to me now."

"That sounds serious indeed. Perhaps I can be of some assistance?"

Tenser sighed. "If it was within your power to conjure a love potion…"

Lidabmob grinned a huge grin as he comprehended. "Ah, it is a matter of the heart that holds your attention! Sadly, I am no enchanter, so the potion you seek is outside my expertise – but tell me, is she here, the object of your affection?"

Tenser looked down into his empty flask and wished he could devise some way to be rid of this man so he could have back his serving wench and her pitcher of ale. A playful idea struck him. "You noticed the serving wench…?" Tenser asked leadingly.

"Her?" Lidabmob said aghast. "A commoner? Tenser, perhaps I have misunderstood you, but I was lead to believe you were a powerful man, both by sorcerous might and the economic leverage the wealth of the dungeons has given you. Why do you set your sights so low? You could be dining at the best tables in the city at this very moment, yet here you sit in a common room with clerks, students, and craftsmen."

"And you," Tenser pointed out.

Lidabmob leaned back in his seat and stared at Tenser, momentarily left speechless. Perhaps he noticed a hint of a smile on Tenser's face, for he next said, "I wonder if you are being earnest, Tenser."

"Earnest Tenser?" Tenser echoed with good humor. "Are you playing at anagrams now in addition to counseling, Lidabmob – or should I call you Bombadil?"

"You may call me what you like…Bombadil, eh? Hmm, rolls off the tongue better than Lidabmob does. If only my parents had not mangled the Common Tongue so badly…"

"It sounds as if you have raised yourself from common origins, just as any man or woman in this room could."

Lidabmob laughed and Tenser joined him. "I retract all I've said," Lidabmob said, "save my initial offer. I do wish to discuss the castle with you further."

"You have earned that for this diversion. Perhaps sometime soon."

"Then I will accept that. She is…nice, this serving wench," Lidabmob said in a low voice as Tenser waved for her to return to them.

"Keredy," Tenser said, recalling her name, "do you think you would have either of us men if we fought for you?"

"You could knock yourselves out for all I care," she replied with a civil tone at odds with her words, "but if you tried anything with me, I'd have my Stante on either or both of you."

Both men roared with laughter. "Oh no!" Tenser said at last. "Stay your boyfriend's wrath, dear lady, and we will behave ourselves."

The time passed quickly for Tenser and his new friend, the drinks flowed freely and grew steadily stronger, and Tenser was dimly aware of becoming inebriated. When he noticed Yrag was standing beside him, he was not sure how long the old warrior had been standing there.

"Tenser," Yrag said sternly, "I said we need to talk."

"I am so popular today," Tenser said.

"This is no time for jokes, Tenser," Yrag said. "We need to talk, in private. On your feet."

"What?" Tenser spat incredulously and then rose to his feet. "How dare you come in here and order me around?"

"Stop making a scene," Yrag said. "I want to talk to you about Robilar and Terik and that …incident you had today."

"I do not believe this!" Tenser continued to rant. "Are you scolding me about that?"

"I am not scolding you. I came to warn you. The constabulary has orders to arrest you for casting spells on agents of the law."

"I disarmed a volatile situation and kept anyone else from being hurt while we dealt with the stalker," Tenser said quietly, his anger with Yrag melting away under this fresh news.

"That is why they will probably only confiscate your spellbooks. Robilar has it worse for injuring guardsmen. He and Terik are leaving town now until this blows over."

Tenser glanced about. Lidabmob was glancing away awkwardly. Keredy had left his table to tend to other customers. Other regulars he knew well enough to recognize had overheard Yrag and were either looking at him contemptuously or refusing to look at him at all. Suddenly flushed with anger, Tenser stormed off.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Yrag said.

"To fetch my spellbooks and turn them in myself," Tenser said as he left the common room. "I am so sick of all this."

Yrag followed him out onto the street outside the tavern. "Don't do anything rash," Yrag cautioned. "I did not come here to talk you into surrendering to the law. I just came to warn you that the city is too hot for you and the others right now. Lay low—"

"Ransack the dungeons for a few days, come back with a heap of treasure, and throw it around until the arrest warrants are forgotten?" Tenser said, turning on Yrag suddenly. "Wasn't that your advice for me last time this happened too?"

"That time was not your fault," Yrag answered. "It was dark. You thought those men were thieves."

"I killed two of them before I realized they were just drunk! And I am sick to death of everything being life or death for me!" Tenser was pacing back and forth, gesticulating wildly, and occasionally stepping right in front of Yrag's face and exhaling the strong odor of alcohol in the older man's face. "I want a normal life!" he said, pleadingly, as he beat his chest. "I want a woman to love, and ordinary friends, and maybe I'll even go to work with Ehlissa selling songbirds! Because she was right. She was right to escape this craziness when she did! Look what it's done to me!"

"What it's done to you?" Yrag echoed. "Made you rich and powerful beyond your wildest dreams? You talk like…well, you've been drinking too much."

Tenser turned his back on Yrag again and slowly slank away from him. He seemed to be dragging himself forward now, his energy spent in his rage from a moment ago. "What use are these spells? There never seems to be the right one for what I need. I lost to that invisible stalker, you know. Robilar and Terik came to me for help, and they had to save me."

"Is that what this is about? Fine, so you didn't save anyone. Your friends came to you for help and you helped them. That is what friends are supposed to do."

"And what was I supposed to do for Endelar? How do I explain to her that I left her alone in the street so I could go lay unconscious in the courtyard of my inn while my friends saved me? What spell do I have that will make things right between her and me again? Or make me feel like I don't have to keep earning her love – if she'll even ever share it with me again?"

Yrag let out a long, hard sigh. "I don't have the answers to all those questions. I suppose you could enchant her with a charm spell, but I don't think that's the kind of relationship you wanted to have…"

Tenser looked back and gave Yrag a hard glare.

"Yes…I suppose that would not work," Yrag continued. "But…have you considered that she might not be good enough for you?"

"Have a care, Yrag…" Tenser said angrily. "That is the woman I love you speak of…"

"All right, I'm sorry. This isn't the time or place for that. We should just be going." Yrag was behind Tenser now, clasping a hand to his shoulder and gently trying to nudge him forward.

Lidabmob cleared his throat. He had followed the two men out of the tavern, after a short delay. "The tavernkeeper is concerned about Tenser's state of mind and the spellpower at his command and asked me to come out here and make sure you two were a suitable distance from the inn before any trouble started. I trust there isn't any trouble?"

"No," Tenser said. "No trouble…"

"Then good luck, Tenser," Lidabmob continued, "and do not forget your promise to me."

Tenser nodded, but he moved mechanically now, as if he were no more than a horse plodding along while Yrag pulled at invisible reins. He scuffed his shoes over the packed dirt road, only veering left or right to avoid stepping in animal waste not yet collected by enterprising fertilizer merchants. He, in his misery, felt a kinship to those droppings that left him more hesitant than usual to disturb them. It was not yet curfew on the city streets, but many people had already chosen to return home for the day. It was a mostly quiet night, punctuated by the occasional sound of someone closing up his shop and shuttering his store window, gruff words exchanged between two passing men, a goat bleating as it pestered a passerby for food, or a donkey braying as it was asked to pull a cart it did not particularly care to move.

Yrag was speaking to him, but Tenser only listened to snatches of it. "…check your inn and see if it's safe to collect your things….find a quiet spot along the wall and levitate or fly us over…"

Tenser slowed, trailing behind Yrag even more as new thoughts came to him. Yrag had not come to save Tenser…Yrag needed his magic. Robilar and Terik had come to him for his magic. To Endelar, he had always offered only treasure. "I can't leave yet," he said.

"What?" Yrag said, looking behind him and noticing for the first time Tenser was about ten paces back.

"I can't leave," Tenser repeated. "I have to see Endelar one more time. Try to show her how much I can offer her."

Yrag sighed. "Haven't you given her enough already? And when are you expecting her to give something back?"

Tenser looked at Yrag, trying to judge from his face what motive would make him say such an absurd thing. "You don't know what you're talking about," Tenser said coldly. Then he turned his gaze from Yrag, spoke magic words, and worked his hands in intricate patterns as he weaved magical energy around them. When he was done, he could fly. By willing himself to do so, Tenser lifted himself off the ground and floated up into the air. Yrag called for him to come back, but Tenser stopped listening. He would make his way to Endelar's home and see her at once. And he did have to stay alert now, as this method of travel did present its own risks. The sky over the City of Greyhawk was patrolled by hippogriff riders, protecting the city from aerial predators and ill-intentioned magicians. Tenser would have to fly low over rooftops to avoid attention, but it was still faster than walking.

It was twilight now. Celene was a waning moon and already high in the sky, while Luna was waxing and hanging low near the horizon. The sky was dark blue and its dim light muted the colors of the tile roofs over which Tenser drifted. The weather was warm, but some chimneys were still in use, venting the smoke from late suppers. The smells and sounds of family life drifted up to Tenser's ears as he flew over a residential borough.

With luck uncharacteristic of how his day had been going, Tenser reached, uninterrupted, the neighborhood of Jean Kepul and his daughter, Endelar. These were fine homes, owned by Greyhawk's wealthiest artisans. The Kepul's were well off before Tenser had begun courting Endelar, but their home had been upgraded considerably in the last year. The high fence around their property was new. Its gate, as well as the house's doors and shutters, were all protected by fire trap spells that would be set off if forced open from the outside -- Tenser had insisted Endelar be kept as safe as possible and spared no expense to ensure it. This prevented a dramatic entrance, bursting in on his estranged fiancée. He would have to settle for landing on knocking on the front door.

Tenser was greeted warmly by the servant answering Jean Kepul's door, for he was known by the whole house staff. Jean was summoned at once and the old man practically came running to meet his guest in the front hall. Tenser smiled and let old Jean shake his hand. He half-listened to Jean gushing praise and appreciation for his daughter's suitor, but Tenser was watching the doorway and the hallway in the hope that Endelar would emerge at any moment.

"…love to show you my latest commissioned piece," Jean was saying, but Tenser had already heard enough.

"Jean," Tenser interrupted, "where is Endelar?"

The old man turned away, caught himself, and tried to hide apologetic eyes with a pleasant smile. "She has had a long day, my boy," Jean said. "Let her rest. I am sure she will see you tomorrow."

"No, you misunderstand me," Tenser said with a tired voice. "I have given you this one chance to deliver her to me, for friendship's sake, but I will not be turned away from what I want."

Tenser left the front hall and moved from room to room. Old Jean, fearful of Tenser's unexpected behavior, summoned his servants. They followed Tenser, trying in vain to interpose themselves between this seemingly mad wizard and the woman he might harm. In truth, Tenser had hoped they would do this, would lead him straight to Endelar's chamber by the path of most resistance. He had seen this a dozen times in the dungeons, on his way to a dozen treasure hoards.

At last, he laid his hand on old Jean's shoulder and pushed the man aside from the last door. Tenser flung the door open and saw Endelar rise from her bed. Her hair was unbraided and flowing freely. Her nightclothes were…appealingly inappropriate for him to be viewing. Tenser felt some of his lust for her returning from before the disastrous afternoon. Endelar's personal handmaiden, hairbrush in hand, stepped back in astonishment.

Endelar too had looked surprised, perhaps even pleasantly surprised, but she did not allow herself to forget her displeasure with Tenser for long. "How dare you?" she said once she could muster an icy stare.

"I dare because I am one of the most powerful sorcerers in Greyhawk," Tenser said boldy, striding into the room. The inebriation of that evening was wearing off and he was fueled instead by the spirit of the moment. "I dare because I have braved and conquered nine levels of the castle dungeons and will delve deeper still until I've plundered all its treasures. Once I have, no one will rival me for wealth or power. I'll be able to do anything. I'll carve out my own kingdom. I'll be a king. And a king needs a queen."

"…oh," Endelar said, suddenly overwhelmed.

Tenser took her by the wrist and began to pull her from the bed.

"Wait!" Endelar said. "Where are we going?"

"Castle Greyhawk will be our home until I have my own castle constructed. You can stay with the elves we hired to guard the upper levels while I have rooms remade to—"

"The old, ruined castle? Why can't we just stay here?" Endelar protested, as she started to fight back from being pulled.

Tenser, surprised by her resistance, dropped her arm and turned around. "It will be a chance for us to start over, start fresh. Just you and me together against the world."

"Yes, but…." Endelar began again, glancing around. She looked to her handmaiden, hiding in the corner of the room. "Could we not do that from here? In the city? Where my home and friends are?"

"Do you not trust in my magic to protect you? To provide you with every comfort you could dream of?"

Endelar tried, but no answer came quickly from her lips. She looked imploringly at Tenser, or so he thought at first. Was that fear instead? The thought angered him further. Had she never understood his power? Had she always thought that she had the power in their relationship? Tenser had relinquished it to her gladly in exchange for her sweet words and smiles, but he knew – had always known – that he could have taken control again at any time had he wanted. With a single spell he could have done this. He had it even know, a simple charm spell held in his mind. He had but to release the spell, cast his charm, and she would look on him again with smiles and say sweet words. She would follow him gladly to Castle Greyhawk and give up this wretched city. But it would not really be her, not the Endelar he knew, but an ensorcelled substitute.

Oh well.

Tenser shot the cringing handmaiden an angry glance and, although that glare spoke volumes, he still felt compelled to warn her with, "Not a word." Then he took his charmed victim – yes, a momentary pang of guilt made him think that – by the hand and led her from her room. "Are you happy?" he asked her.

"Oh yes," Endelar replied, looking enraptured, "I'm so very happy."

Endelar continued to remain happy, though her father was not. The old man ranted at Tenser, then began imploring him to leave his daughter stay, and then began threatening to summon the watch. This last threat worried Tenser a little, since he was already in trouble with the law, and he realized a little too late that abducting someone by spellcraft was only going to make things worse. Still, his resolve did not waver much, even when he plunged out the front door into the dark yard or the darker street beyond.

It was night in Greyhawk now. An important street like this one would soon be visited by the lamplighters as they made their rounds. Watch patrols with lanterns would be coming around to enforce curfew too. Tenser planned to avoid any groups carrying lamps or lanterns, regardless to which organization they belonged. He kept Endelar's hand in his, even though she would have followed him anyway, more to keep them from being separated in the gloom. They moved almost noiselessly down the packed dirt road, shuffling along, and oblivious to the soft shuffling behind them.

Tenser was busy planning their "escape." After so much drama, he would have liked for an exit with a flourish, but he doubted he had the right spells still memorized to pull it off. There was still Yrag's semi-dangerous plan of levitating over the city wall, but Tenser was now leaning towards escaping quietly by river, as that was the safest alternative for Endelar. He had all kinds of contingencies playing out in his head, but the last thing on his mind was having someone call out to him by name.

The sound of his name being called had come from behind, so Tenser spun around, pulled Endelar behind him, and reached into his spell component pouch with his free hand. If it was a foe, he still had a combat spell or two left in him to dole out.

"Easy," said a familiar voice. "It is I."

"…Bombadil?" Tenser asked, for confirmation. The man from the tavern, if this was him, would recognize the inversion of his name.

"Yes, that will do as well as any name," Lidabmob said with a soft chuckle. "I'm sorry to interrupt, as it seems I have finally met the lady of your affections of whom you spoke so fondly this evening only to catch you both in the middle of …some sort of tryst," Lidabmob concluded wryly as he observed Endelar's state of undress. "Anyway, I did not wish to wait any further before interrupting you and—"

Tenser had opened his mouth to speak twice already, but only now managed, "How did you find me? Have you been following me all evening?"

"In a sense, I have been following you longer," Lidabmob said slowly. "After this afternoon's debacle, I thought it best to meet you in person and see what manner of man you were, so I would not judge you as harshly as I had judged Terik."

Tenser took this in as slowly as Lidabmob confessed it. "Then…" Tenser said at last, having put the pieces together, "you are the Mage of the Tower's apprentice!"

Lidabmob nodded and kept his hands in the open in front of him. "I have not come here to attack you, Tenser," he said, sensing one imminent from his former supper companion. "Nor did I mean any serious injury to Terik today – only to humiliate him as he had done to me. Only later did my master explain the vagaries of the invisible stalker spell, that the stalker can pervert its instructions."

"Do not expect a quick forgiveness," Tenser said angrily, "for your 'prank' as you seem to be calling it has cost me much today. Why do you tell me all this now and not earlier at the Roc and Oliphant?"

After a sigh, Lidabmob said, "As I said, I wished to judge your character. Terik and his fool friend Robilar came to you for help today. I decided, if you were not all bad, that I would let go this feud before it worsened. Let bygones be bygones, as they say."

"And you have judged me?" Tenser asked.

Lidabmob gave him a curious stare, thinking the question a strange one. "I judge you to be a good man, Tenser," he said.

Tenser cringed at the unintended slight. Here he was, stealing away in the night with his fiancée charmed and powerless to resist her abduction. Though most of his mind had been focused on escaping the city, a portion of it was already distracted with thoughts of what he could do with her after they were safely away. He was an angry, frustrated man full of bad thoughts. Where was this good man Lidabmob saw? Worse, what would his new friends, like Ayelerarch, think of him if they knew? Or Ehlissa? Or even Yrag?

It was not too late to turn this around, Tenser decided. He had not gone too far. "Endelar, I release you," he said softly, accompanied by a magic gesture that ended his spell.

Endelar looked around as if she had just awoken standing up. She recoiled from Tenser, accidentally right into the arms of Lidabmob. She was disoriented, but tried to ask questions. When Lidabmob hushed her she stopped, suddenly frightened.

"I am sorry, Endelar," Tenser said. "Sorry for everything. Lidabmob, I trust you know where she lives if you have been following us long enough. Will you help me see her home safely?"

"Yes, Tenser, I will," Lidabmob replied. His face had darkened as his understanding of the situation grew, but he did not openly change his opinion of Tenser yet. "And what then?"

Tenser looked northward, as if Castle Greyhawk was visible to him. "I will return to the dungeons of Castle Greyhawk. I will fight more monsters. Search for more treasures. Bury myself in my work. There is nothing to hold me here to the city any longer."


	4. Chapter 4

_**575**_

The monoliths rose into the murky sky like tombstones in a giants' graveyard. They were heavily engraved by the work of generations long since gone, their meanings forgotten, and now the inscriptions themselves were fading under the affects of air and water. The procession of monoliths ended in a courtyard of sorts populated by massive, stone statues. Some statues were abstract, representing monsters, while others looked almost human, yet somehow still slightly off and alien. Some were frozen in action poses, but all gave a sense of defensiveness, as if their blackened eyes were watching for trouble.

"And none of these animate?" Tenser asked.

"None. Well, at least not in this part of the city," Murlynd replied. "That I have seen so far…" he amended slowly.

"Delightful," Tenser said sarcastically. He tucked his wand of paralyzation back into his pouch and firmly gripped his new staff of power in both hands. "I can't decide if I like these better, or those tuskless elephant statues back by the waterfall."

The statues were in double rows, curving across the courtyard past a dried-up basin and ended at the steps of a limestone building made from thick slabs and many pillars. Similar buildings dotted the ruined or empty streets past it.

"I haven't been inside there yet," Murlynd said, pointing to the building with a wand in his hand, "but it looks important." 

Tenser hoped it would be. He had accepted Murlynd's invitation to explore the Lost City of the Elders together, but had so far found much of it already sacked by Murlynd, Mordenkainen, and the others. So far, it had been an interesting tour peppered with wandering monsters, but nothing in the way of loot.

"Did these statues have gems for eyes?" Tenser asked, looking disappointed at the statues as they passed them. Curiously, the statues all looked as if they had been scorched black where their eyes should be.

"Not in the time that I've explored this place," Murlynd said. "Who knows how many explorers have—"

Murlynd stopped himself in mid-sentence. Tenser spotted them too. They were huge cat-like monsters, with sleek blue-black fur. Wriggling on their backs were black tentacles half-covered in yellow spikes. Their eyes blazed like green fire. There were two of them and they were slinking, cat-like, behind the statues, slowly circling clockwise around the two magic-users and now less than 10 yards away.

Tenser took a step back and held his staff pointed at the monsters. "I've read about these beasts," he said. "They're not where they appear to be, like an illusion."

"Interesting," Murylnd said, pointing his wand at the creature on the left. "Let's test that." He chanted a command word for the wand and waited patiently while magical energy built up around the wand's tip. The energy spontaneously generated a glowing arrow that flew towards the blue-black beast as if fired from a bow. The arrow passed right through the creature. The image faded slightly when the arrow struck an invisible version of the cat-creature right behind it and rendered it momentarily visible. The cat-creature had been swift and agile enough to twist away from the arrow, taking a glancing hit. It roared, more in anger than in pain.

"Don't you ever get tired of that old wand?" Tenser asked, as if more agitated than concerned about the monsters. "You've been using and recharging that wand for, what? Two or three years now?"

"Old Reliable?" Murlynd asked, incredulous. "It's taken care of me for too long to replace it now."

The two cat-creatures had paused for a moment, unsure of how to proceed, but now they split up and began moving to flank the two magic-users from different directions. Tenser responded by pointing his staff at the one trying to flank him. He too chanted a command word, swung his staff in a special pattern as magical energy began to coalesce around the tip of it. The beast was maybe 10 feet away and about to pounce when Tenser pointed his staff at it again and unleashed a bolt of lightning at the creature's chest. The bolt passed through where the beast appeared to be, but the bolt was wide and the edge of it struck the unseen beast just a few feet to the left of where it appeared to be. The real one howled horribly as its fur caught on fire. It rolled over once, turned around, and sped away.

Murlynd had fired a second magic missile at his opponent, but that had not slowed it down. It pounced at him, raking with its claws, biting, and then crouching down so it could swing the tentacles on its back at him, but Murlynd wore enough protective magic that every attack glanced off as if Murlynd was encased in armor – save for the first spiked tentacle that caught in his sleeve and grazed his arm underneath enough to draw blood. When the creature saw the lightning bolt, it froze for a moment, then turned and sprinted away.

"Old Reliable, eh?" Tenser said when the beasts both disappeared from line of sight.

"You're reliable too," Murlynd said with a wink. "I knew I could count on you to overreact."

"Overreact?" Tenser echoed. "I just saved us."

"Luckily that spell has no thunderclap like real lightning, but it is going to leave a discernable odor behind here. Any monsters that know magic will smell that and know better than to try to tackle us alone."

Tenser sighed and leaned on his staff. "You sound like Yrag when you lecture me."

Murlynd laughed. "Well, you are, what? Twenty-eight or twenty-nine? Yrag and I are of an older generation, and still have some things to teach."

"Twenty-nine," Tenser corrected patiently. He guessed that Murlynd was about 50 by the wrinkles on his face, though he took pains to wear his prematurely white hair in a long beard to keep up the image of being a wizened old wizard. "Shall we explore the building we came here for now?" Tenser prompted, waving his hand at the nearby structure.

The two men moved up to the steps of the building, mounted them, and reached the open doorway, which they examined carefully. What they saw made them both groan. The frame around the opening bore a familiar wizard mark – a number inside a small white circle inside a larger black circle. The mark was immediately recognized by and drew sharp utterances of frustration from both of them.

"Mordenkainen! Again!" Tenser cried.

"I should have known," Murlynd said. "I waited too long to come back here and that …that upstart seems to have all the time in the world for adventuring."

"How?" Tenser protested. "The man was just appointed to the council of directors of the Greyhawk Wizards' Guild. He has to be the busiest man in the world. How does he stay ahead of us?"

"I don't know…" Murlynd said with a sigh, "but I do know we are accomplishing nothing standing out here complaining. Let's at least look inside and see what was here."

Murlynd walked boldly into the first room, with Tenser glumly following in his footsteps. The room was small and octagonal, 20 feet wide and half as high. There was a doorway opposite the entrance, iron bands still hanging from hinges while the rotting wood that once constituted the rest of the door was in a mildewed heap. The diagonal walls all had stone shelves jutting from them, while the two walls perpendicular to the entry wall held old, pitch-encrusted torch sconces. The floor was a filthy mass of dust, cobwebs, dung, pitch, blood, and other fluids. They walked around and examined the room, both hoping it still held some danger Mordenkainen had not already handled. It did not, of course, and they simply circled the room in opposite directions until they met on the opposite side, next to the inner doorway. Tenser chanted a command word and waved his staff around until a bright, steady light began to emanate from the tip of it. The darkness was dispelled from the other side of the doorway and a four-way intersection could be seen beyond. Straight ahead, the corridor opened into another chamber which, like this one, appeared to be mostly empty.

"Do you want to map it?" Murlynd asked, hoping to re-ignite Tenser's enthusiasm, but he could see the defeat in the younger sorcerer's eyes when their gazes met. "Well…" Murlynd began again, still determined, "why don't we camp in here for a bit, consider our options, and maybe we can scout out some more buildings next."

Tenser slumped against one of the shelf-less walls and watched as Murlynd pulled a long scrollcase out of the small sack at his side.

Murlynd produced a tightly rolled parchment and unfurled it on the floor. "Bring your light closer," he bade Tenser.

Tenser complied, but his eyes became diverted from the elder wizard's map of the city. Out of curiosity, he dragged his boot along the floor from its cleanest spot, clearing away a layer of cobwebs between that spot and the corner.

"Found something?" Murlynd asked, having observed Tenser's actions.

"This floor is wood," Tenser said.

"It doesn't feel like wood," Murlynd observed.

"It's petrified wood, but look," Tenser said, pointing to the spot he had cleared away.

Murlynd rose to his feet so he could comply.

Tenser glanced around the rest of the floor. "If only I had memorized a spell that would clear all this…" he mused out loud.

Murlynd cast a spell and a gust of wind swirled up out of nowhere and began sweeping the floor clean.

"I can't believe you memorized that," Tenser said, staring with a mixture of admiration and bemusement.

"And I suppose you stocked up on combat spells, even though you have that staff to depend on," Murlynd said. "Kids these days…" he said with good humor. Changing his tone again, he said, "So what have we found? I don't see any obvious trap doors."

"No, I don't either…" Tenser said, deep in thought. "I do have one important non-combat spell memorized. I learned to always have this with me," he said with a grin before he cast a spell that allowed him to see the unseen.

"Well?" Murlynd asked, recognizing the spell and awaiting its results.

"There's not even a secret door here, but there's something about this floor..." Tenser said as some of his enthusiasm came back. "I mean, why would they put better wood in here for the floor than they used for the doors?"

"Because there's something underneath it?" Murlynd responded, his own enthusiasm rising again.

"Right, that is what I'm thinking. Now we just have to find away to move these boards," Tenser said, looking at Murlynd as if to prompt him.

"I do have a spell for that, but not memorized. It will take me awhile, but I have it in my traveling spellbook," Murlynd said.

"I have a powerful charm spell I've been saving on a scroll," Tenser suggested. "We could go find a big, strong monster, charm it, and make it lift the boards for us."

"Maybe we're just making this more complicated than it has to be," Murlynd countered. "If the boards are not too thick, maybe we can lift them between the two of us." He drew a dagger, bent down on his knees, and scrapped muck and filth from a crack between the boards. "They don't seem to be pressed too tight together, which lends to your theory, I think," Murlynd said. "Try doing this down at the other end."

Quickly, they both found room for their fingers along the same board and heaved with all their might. The board felt like it was considering giving, but judged them both too weak and quit cooperating out of spite.

Tenser stood up and was about to make another suggestion when he noticed Murlynd was not rising and had a painful look on his face. Immediately concerned, he rushed across the small chamber to see what was the matter.

"I…don't know…" Murlynd said, curling up on the floor. "I just feel so weak all of a sudden…like all the strength is draining out of me…"

Tenser examined the whole room. His detection spell was still active, but his enhanced sight saw no attackers. He even looked beyond the physical world to the ethereal beyond, but saw nothing lurking nearby. When he withdrew his sight back to his physical surroundings, he saw Murlynd looked even worse. He crouched over his fallen friend and felt his forehead. "You feel cold!" he exclaimed. "What has happened to you? Maybe…maybe we disturbed a glyph of warding under the board. I'm sorry, I should have detected for magic before we tried anything! Or, what if…Murlynd! Those tentacled beasts might have been poisoned! I have healing potions on me, but nothing to neutralize poison!"

"I do…" Murlynd said, his breathing forced and heavy. "This ring stores spells…but I can't concentrate on it. Here, take…"

Tenser did not wait for Murlynd to finish his instructions, but took the ring off of Murlynd's finger and placed it on one of his own. He immediately sensed that the ring contained clerical magic waiting to be called upon, including the perhaps much needed neutralize poison spell. "If this doesn't work, I'll try dispelling magic next," he said, trying to sound cheerful.

Murlynd managed to say something that sounded like "hurry," but Tenser was already halfway done invoking the spell. He felt the ring release its healing energy and he directed it toward Murlynd. And it accomplished nothing. Tenser growled in frustration, but immediately choked down his anger and concentrated on his magic dispelling spell. The words he chanted were magical and speaking them released the magic into the air. He whisked components from his spellpouch and moved them in special patterns through the magical energy that caused it to ripple and flow and swirl in patterns just barely visible on the edge of his vision. The magical energy swirled faster and faster toward its predestined conclusion and, with a flash of light, shot out in all directions and permeated everything it touched.

And still Murlynd seemed to fade like a shining moon into dark clouds. He seemed to be drifting in and out of sleep now, though Tenser was sure it was more than sleep toward which he drifted. Tenser knelt down low to Murlynd and tightly clasped his hand.

"Don't worry, Murlynd," Tenser said, trying to sound light-hearted, though his chest seemed wracked with pain now as if he were the one suffering. "Worst comes to worst, I'll get you back to the city and to Serten's church. The high priests there can bring you back, like they did for Serten after he…" He could not say the word "died." Tenser, who had killed a hundred monsters and witnessed the deaths of over a hundred more, now found what was happening as inexplicably different and scary as if he had never seen death before. It was all he could do to keep his hands from trembling.

"No, this is different," Murlynd said with some of his old strength. He fought to focus his eyes on Tenser's eyes. "This isn't part of the game. It's real. If we ever meet again…you won't recognize me. Ask Mord—" And with that, Murlynd's strength failed him and his head lolled back like it belonged to a rag doll.

"Ask Mordenkainen what? What? Come on, Murlynd, tell me!" But no answers came, as Tenser was now all alone in the Lost City of the Elders.

Murlynd's body was limp, lifeless, and impossible for Tenser to carry on his own very far. Tenser stepped out of the building and nearly stumbled down its steps, so little did he heed his surroundings. He walked as if in a daze down the street in the direction away from where they had come, soon reaching an intersection of sorts between the rubble of buildings' foundations and tall columns that supported nothing but perched gargoyles. Three gargoyles stirred and took wing at Tenser's approach. He barely looked up and spoke quietly the words that activated his staff of power. The gargoyles, like demonic bats of pliable stone, were circling down towards him. They were greedy for the easy kill of a lone wanderer, when a small projectile soared up past them and then exploded into a great ball of white-hot fire that engulfed them. The gargoyles did not burn, but the intense heat stunned them enough that they fell hard to the ground.

Two of the gargoyles turned to flee, but one hesitated. That was the one that fell victim to Tenser's charm scroll. Tenser led it back to the building where Murlynd laid waiting for them and instructed the gargoyle by example to pick up the dead body on the floor. He did not even think about having the gargoyle lift the floorboards. All thoughts of adventure had been wiped from his mind. The one thought that ran through his mind, focused his mind past the miserable grief that would have left him weeping and sobbing like a baby, was that he could not leave his friend here. Murlynd had said it would be impossible, but Tenser would bring him back to the city anyway and find a way there to bring him back.

They returned to the outskirts of the city, so that Tenser could see the elephant-like statues by where they had entered once more. He was eager to summon his mount, but knew he would have to cross behind the waterfall first. It was not only expedient to wait, but some magic at that threshold would, he knew, hinder the summoning. He thought it curious before, but now everything that delayed him from reaching the city was an excruciating pain. The rock wall was in sight now, soon the cave mouth, and then the waterfall beyond it would come into view. The gargoyle, charmed though it was, hesitated from drawing nearer to it. Tenser had to urge it onward with heated words that it understood by their anger and urgency. Water flowed steady on the other side of the opening. Tenser and the gargoyle stepped through it onto the floor of a cavern that was impossibly underground even though the city on the other side was open to the sky. The waterfall pooled in a pit lower than the floor of the cave they walked in now. Tenser made sure the gargoyle followed him closely around the circumference of the cave and that Murlynd's body was being carried carefully. Once safely around that obstacle, they could take the tunnel that led to the surface.

They emerged into the Cairn Hills, having exited from a hill far too small to have housed the city they just left. To their backs, the hills rose higher until they were almost mountains. The source of the subterranean waterfall was the larger one cascading down the side of the hill behind this one. Tenser felt its spray on his back, carried to him by a cruel, cold-blowing breeze. The sky here had a murky look, similar to the sky above the Lost City of the Elders, but striated by rows of clouds in different formations. Tenser scanned the sky for his steed and produced the whistle that summoned it. The shrill blow was answered by the call of Tenser's griffin. It soared over the peak of the tallest hill nearby and the beat of its feathered wings could be heard over the roar of the waterfall as it drew closer. It landed carefully before its master, bowing its head so that its bridle touched the ground.

The gargoyle, still skittish from being yelled at by its new best friend, was difficult to approach. It was even more difficult to demonstrate to it that it needed to hand Murlynd over to him carefully. The gargoyle had carried Murlynd like a slab of meat, and it angered Tenser further to think that this monster probably thought it was carrying their supper for them. He considered letting it have a lightning bolt in the face for its impertinence, but thought better of it quickly. It had served him, however unwittingly, and at least deserved to live.

The bitter reminder of too much death was right there in his arms, as Tenser struggled to lay Murlynd's body over the back of the griffin's saddle. The griffin recognized the state of its new cargo and let out a growl of protest, but Tenser ignored it. He simply shooed his gargoyle servant away, took the reins of the griffin, and tried to start the walk back to Greyhawk City. There was no way he would risk flight with Murlynd just laying on the back of the griffin, and tying him down was too morbid to even consider. He had a teleport spell memorized, but was unsure of how much his griffin weighed and if he could teleport all three of them safely. He had not come by the griffin easily and did not wish to abandon it if he could help it. He did not explain these considerations to the griffin and it resisted his first two tugs on its bridle. With a sigh, he produced some jerky from out of a saddlebag on the griffin's back and used it to bribe its compliance. Then, at last, he started the long, slow march through the hills.

It was late summer and ideal weather for the long walk, but those were small consolations to a man who had not hiked for miles in the last two years. The ground was rocky, uneven, and if there was a path it was beyond Tenser's skills to detect. He glanced from ground to sky and back often, trying to picture what the terrain looked like from above so he could navigate. That proved insufficient by the end of the first mile and Tenser was forced to tether his steed and levitate higher for a better vantage point. He thought he could see the Selintan River snaking past roughly due east and, though it was out of his way, he knew that if he reached the river he could simply follow it back to the city. After another mile of slow going over hilltops, he spotted the river from a rise. The hills ahead were lower and more forested, so that he would quickly lose sight of the river again. He stopped and rested his feet, waiting for his breathing to become less labored so he could listen over it. When he could finally hear the river, he knew he could follow that sound to its source.

For the last half-mile, crows had begun circling over him, which was bothering him greatly. He had considered wasting a spell on the nuisances, but thought better of it. He now hoped that the crows would attract a really big monster that Tenser could really cut loose on. His hopes increased when he heard a commotion ahead of him, but were dashed when it turned out to be a gnome hunting party. There were 18 gnomes present -- child-sized, bearded warriors wearing boiled leather cuirasses and oddly-pointed leather skullcaps. The gnomes, impressed by Tenser's griffin, greeted him warmly. They said they were sweeping the area for monsters and proudly showed off the carcasses of a pair of bugbears that had wandered into their territory. Tenser grimaced, thinking of the half-dozen spells he still had memorized with which he could have easily dispatched two bugbears. The leader of the hunting party introduced himself, but Tenser was not paying attention. When they started to ask about the man on the back of his griffin, he immediately changed the subject to how much farther it was to the city.

The gnomes seemed to know and told him freely. He nodded and thanked them, but then took to ignoring them as they asked where he had come by a tame griffin. He had to force himself to move again, as his feet had become accustomed to the rest and ached in protest to being jarred into motion. He crossed wide around a thicket and left the gnomes behind. The gnomes had, thankfully, stopped following him, as he could not bear their company. Every word wasted that did not help bring Murlynd back felt like a stab from a dagger of guilt between his ribs. Tenser thought again of teleporting to the city, but had already walked so much of the way that casting it now seemed foolish.

The trees waxed and waned in their density, but the hills remained steady and constant. Tenser came at last to the river. The Selintan was wide and powerful, sweeping through the canyon below with a heady roar. Far out on its calmer surface mid-river, a flat barge was making its way north, with swarthy Rhenee sailors poling it upstream. The river's waters cascaded loudly over the rocks below, making it unnecessary for Tenser to follow the river too closely. His griffin hopped about awkwardly over the rocks, never upsetting its cargo too badly. Up ahead, the Cairn Hills finally began to scatter and the great, flat river basin beyond could be glimpsed. There, where the river flowed out of the canyon, a pair of cogs were sailing against the current with the aid of a modest breeze. They flew the flag of Greyhawk and were probably bound for the City of Dyvers or the Kingdom of Furyondy. Finally, after far too much exertion for Tenser's liking, he reached the mouth of the canyon himself and gazed out over the river basin. There, in the middle of the basin and surrounded by a thousand acres of farmland, was the City of Greyhawk.

Halfway to the city, a party of cavalrymen -- soldiers of Greyhawk – intercepted him. They immediately recognized Tenser and hailed him by name. Tenser recognized none of them personally and knew that only by reputation did they know him. Several of them tried talking to him, as the gnomes had, but Tenser was not listening.

"Take me to the temple of Pholtus," he told them.

Under escort, Tenser was quickly admitted inside the city walls through Rivergate and led to the temple in the River Quarter that he sought. The half-timber building rose taller and looked fancier than the surrounding structures, but was in no way separated from the rest of the city block on which it stood. Stained glass windows on the upper floors depicted demons being blinded or blasted into dust by Pholtus' blinding light. The roof was a jumble of gables stacked on gables, peaking in a tall wooden spire with a magical radiance emanating from the tip of it.

Tenser was certain the structure had additional enchantments, such as glasssteel windows and fireproofed bronzewood timbers. It was a tough neighborhood and required such defenses. While he patiently tethered his exhausted pack avian to a hitching post, two acolytes rushed out from the temple doors to see what manner of parade had ended at their doorstep. A cavalryman said something else Tenser ignored, his attention now riveted on the acolytes.

"Send for Serten," he commanded, "and help me move my friend inside."

Tenser, Murlynd, and, indeed, all of the old band had donated fortunes to the Church of the Blinding Light to ensure quick and efficient care should anything happen to them. Murlynd must have donated particularly well, because he was speedily laid out on a dais in a viewing room that acolytes were quickly filling with light and flowers. Chanting priests paraded into the viewing room and sang generic praises for Murlynd's soul. Tenser sat on a pew, nervously tapping his fingers on his knee for what seemed like a long time while he waited for Serten to come. At long last, Serten emerged from the vestry, resplendent in a silver and gold mantle befitting a patriarch of the church. Tenser rose at once and went to him.

"Serten, thank the gods you're here," Tenser exclaimed.

"I came as soon as I could," Serten said. "I can hardly believe it. What could have killed Murlynd?"

"I am as in the dark as you," Tenser answered. "No art I know could divine the source of his distress and then, before I knew it, he was…"

Serten's face became as troubled as Tenser's own, though whether it was the words or the strained voice that spoke them that troubled Serten more, he did not say. He simply placed his hand on Tenser's shoulder and said, "Wait here. We will do all we can."

Serten walked into the viewing room and acolytes closed a curtain behind him. Fully a dozen clerics were now bending their good relations with Pholtus toward summoning the divine energy they needed to bring Murlynd back. This Tenser knew and understood, but it was what Murlynd had last said to him – that strange statement about a game – that troubled his thoughts. The ramblings of a mind rendered incoherent by the onset of death? What then of the strength in his hand as it grasped Tenser then, or the lucidity in Murlynd's eyes? And why had he failed to mention this to Serten before the ceremony? An overwhelming dread hung over Tenser like a shroud, so much so that when Serten emerged from the viewing room an hour later with a look of frustration and melancholy on his features, Tenser was not surprised.

"I am sorry," Serten said, his eyes too heavy to look higher than Tenser's chin.

Tenser looked away, telling himself that he was astonished by this news, when he had been somehow expecting it the whole time. "What went wrong?" he asked quietly, his emotions under control. "Did he not want to come back?"

"His soul is somehow already beyond our ability to contact," Serten said, reminding Tenser of a diagnosis for an illness. "We can try to divine how that was accomplished. Perhaps it was intercepted by some other-planar being…"

"What end would benefit from such an amazing conspiracy?" Tenser asked with a sarcastic sneer at "amazing." His gaze returned to Serten with angry eyes searching for answers. "Who would be responsible?"

"Tenser, I cannot answer these questions. It is simply too soon to say. Perhaps something can yet be done. Perhaps….Tenser, you may need to consider that Murlynd is not returning to us."

"Find out what you can," Tenser said. "You know how to find me."

"Tenser, wait," Serten said.

Tenser was not listening. He would not let Serten bend his ear with cloying words of sympathy. Those words were for common folk who had lost those close to them. There was nothing common in what had occurred here. Only a mystery that needed solving. But what, he thought as he wandered out of the temple and into the streets of the River Quarter, could he do to solve it? A horrible feeling of helplessness crawled over him and drained him of his strength. He shuffled along, willing his feet to move, because at the least he could keep moving if there was nothing else he could do. He had walked so long already today that his legs from the thighs down felt numb. Gradually, he became jealous of his lower extremities and wished to feel that same numbness more uniformly. Fortunately, he knew of a substance that would accomplish this more quickly than magic could, and the River Quarter was rife with taverns selling this fare. Tenser looked down this street and then the next for alternatives, but decided that the nearby Low Seas Tavern would do.

By his eighth flask of brandy, Tenser was starting to enjoy some of the numbness for which he had come looking. He was staring into the bottom of his flask when he realized someone was saying his name next to him. He could not recognize the voice right away or, rather, that part of his mind was not functioning too well at the moment. His first guess was that it was Serten.

"Tenser, what happened?" Erac asked.

Tenser turned and recognized one of his newer associates -- a young fighter with a scruffy face and a brashness that Ayelerach would say was just like Tenser's. Tenser's eyes strayed to the brooch Erac wore on his cloak – a treasure found in a once-missed treasure chest under Castle Greyhawk, then turned to the table where he sat as he noticed a blob of pink from a red and a white candle that had melted in the past at this spot, but when he looked back at Erac he saw the man was still there and waiting for an answer. Tenser sighed and blurted out what had been on his mind all along. "I should have teleported us back to town."

"What?"

"I should have teleported us back to town. I…I thought I wasn't sure about the weight factor interfering with the spell…but the real reason was that I wasn't prepared to lose my griffin and the treasure in its saddlebags just to save Murlynd faster. I could have left it behind and been back to Greyhawk hours sooner."

"Did Serten say that would have made a difference?" Erac asked.

"No…" Tenser answered before draining the last of the brandy from his flask. "Did Serten send you to talk to me?"

"He sent word to me that you were back. Tenser, why didn't you bring Ayelerach and me along?"

"It was Murlynd's idea. He said we could handle anything we came across, especially if Mordenkainen could handle a solo foray into the lost city. Besides…you wouldn't have been able to help. Even my magic couldn't save him."

"I'm sure you did everything you could."

"I was so sure that he could be brought back. Ever since I first learned that the clerics had the secret of raising the dead I haven't worried about what happened to us when we adventured. We could always be brought back, right? Why not this time…?"

"I'm sorry," Erac said. "What are you going to do now?" Erac asked.

"Now? I don't know…sleep this off? I'm having trouble concentrating enough to understand you, and I'm going to need to be at my best when I confront Mordenkainen. Murlynd said something about Mordenkainen just…I think Mordenkainen knows something. Maybe he knows how to bring him back."

Tenser had found some of his strength and resolve again and it showed in his eyes as they now looked straight back at Erac. Erac saw this and simply nodded his head. Tenser seemed dizzy when he stood up. Erac escorted his friend to the nearest inn and made sure Tenser was resting safely before he left.

Although Tenser thought he could sleep for a week when he went to bed, it was before dawn when Tenser found himself unable to sleep anymore. He still felt so exhausted that his head could barely find the strength to throb. He crawled out of bed and into the corner of the room, where he just sat there for an hour or so reliving the horror of the previous day in his mind. By the time he was done, he realized he was afraid to leave that room, that corner, and face the world outside. It had become alien to him now and things he once thought he could believe seemed scarily questionable.

He knew he could not stay there. He needed answers. Murlynd needed him to find answers. And it would start with Mordenkainen. He forced himself up on his feet and dressed. There would be no mourning clothes today, as he had never bothered to buy clothes that were not blue. No matter, he thought, since he did not feel like mourning anyway. His grief was all recrimination – not certainty that Murlynd was beyond restoration.

Without bothering with breakfast, Tenser took his staff in hand and began to march down the street towards the Processional. It was a beautiful day – incongruously so with Tenser's mood – and he could only take some solace in the fact that an annoying breeze was threatening to blow off his hat if he did not grab and hold it often. He was obviously a wizard on a mission and people gave him a wide berth on the main road that ran through the city. He made excellent time to the High Gate, where the sentinels on duty made him wait a minute and then, upon identifying him, apologized for the wait. He spared not one of them a word, but grunted at their apology and made his way at last to the guildhall.

The Wizards of Greyhawk City prided themselves on their ostentation. Their guildhall was in the shape of a pyramid. The stone for it had been magically transported all the way from the Sulhaut Mountains in the western Flanaess. As if daring thieves to try anything funny, glyphs and runes all over the building were gilt with real gold. The entrance was, in contrast, a simple door set in the front of the pyramid, but if Tenser failed to make a secret sign in front of the entrance, a bound and invisible horned devil nearby would detain him until a security team of sufficient size to deal with him arrived. Should he pass that obstacle, he still had an annoyingly convoluted ceremony with the dwarf sentries to enact. Not interested in any of that, Tenser circled wide around the building and came to the pair of hovering wizard eyes, virtually unnoticeable, at the rear of the pyramid. He looked right into the eyes and said, "I am Tenser, Necromancer of the Wild Coast. I wish to see Mordenkainen at once."

In an instant, Tenser was standing in an office in the interior of the pyramid. Tenser recognized it as a waiting room for those wishing to see the council of directors. The conjuration circles on the floor were woven into comfortable rugs over a hardwood floor. Magical light emanated from a lamp hanging over the middle of the room. There were comfortable chairs and stools along the walls of the room, a brass brazier burning incense in one corner, and, across from the door into the council's office, the wall was dominated by a tapestry of the cityscape outside. The magical tapestry moved with the world outside, producing a nice effect as a flock of pigeons fluttered through the weave of the tapestry.

Tenser's summoner had not been Mordenkainen, but someone else Tenser was displeased to see. The man was a loathsome toady to the council, constantly boot-licking in the hopes of reward or promotion.

"Sigildark," Tenser said, acknowledging his host.

"Necromancer of the Wild Coast?" Sigildark repeated with disdainful mockery. "Since when are you a necromancer, Tenser?"

"Since when are we wizards anything we appear to be? Should I question now whether Sigildark is your true name? Yet my mood is so dark that the title seemed a good fit to me. That is all you need know. The rest I have to say is for Mordenkainen's ears."

Sigildark strolled calmly over to the brazier and breathed deeply of its incense, turning his back on Tenser in another show of defiance. "Then you have ill-timed your visit, for Mordenkainen is far from here."

"Don't talk to me like I was the child here, magician," Tenser said angrily enough that Sigildark turned to face him with a look of fearful alertness. "I happen to know you have maybe half as much power as I command and that the rest is all bluff and bluster. I ask this one time – where is Mordenkainen?"

Sigildark's veneer of superiority faded away quickly and he responded meekly, saying, "Mordenkainen is in Blackmoor."

"Confound that man!" Tenser exclaimed in frustration. "No matter," he said, regaining his composure. "I invoke my right to use the crystal ball."

"The crystal—?"

"All members in good standing and paying dues equal to or in excess of 1,000 gold orbs annually will be allowed all reasonably requested access to Yragerne's Crystal Sphere," Tenser quoted. "Do not presume that I am ignorant as to the bylaws just because I do not spend all my time here sucking off the council like a leech."

Sigildark cringed, and made noises like he was about to protest, but instead vented all his anger into an overly dramatic exit from the office through a side door. In this second room he produced a key and inserted the key into an invisible keyhole in another door. Tenser followed through this door and down a dark, narrow, flagstone hallway until they came into a room that was little more than a high-ceilinged, round alcove. Magical light fell from the ceiling onto the crystal ball resting on a slender, marble pedestal.

Tenser touched the crystal ball and droned Mordenkainen's name while he concentrated on the errant magic-user. The dark crystal ball gradually turned opaque, and then a scene began to form inside the surface of the ball. Tenser could clearly see Mordenkainen. The old sorcerer was sitting in front of a campfire, his staff across his lap, and chewing on something. He would give Mordenkainen something more to chew on, Tenser thought. He was not concerned about the risks of teleportation this time. By casting the spell in tandem with using the crystal ball, he would surely reach Mordenkainen. To Sigildark he gave one last, vague, warning glare, he cast his spell, and then he was gone.

In the next moment, Tenser was in a new environment. He was standing on a round platform made of steel tiles. An iron-shod wall circled around the platform on one side before curving away again. He seemed to be in an intersection of streets with similarly odd-shaped, iron-shod buildings standing around him. Some had small windows and others did not. Many had towers that stretched above the steel-tiled rooftops – and the tower roofs appeared to be sheathed in silver! Steps led down from the steel platform to a stone-paved road. It was down there, on the road, where Mordenkainen and Robilar sat. A ring of tall, iron spikes surrounded their campsite -- a space about six paces in diameter -- pegged into the ground and made into a crude fence with rope. Each spike had an unlit torch stuck to it with pitch. A ring of stones surrounded their fire and the two men sat on larger stones. Two bedrolls were nearby. There was no sign of anyone else having traveled with them, not even Robilar's favorite henchman, Quij, nor Mordenkainen's vassal Bigby. By now, both men had noticed Tenser's arrival and rose slowly to meet him. Mordenkainen used his staff to help himself to his feet. Robilar's magic plate mail armor was light enough that he could stand with ease. The fighter kept his hand on his sword pommel, eyeing Tenser suspiciously, but neither met his arrival with hostility or even much surprise.

Tenser stormed down the steps to meet them, asking along the way, "Mord, Rob, what place is this where I've found you?"

"Welcome, Tenser, to the City of the Gods," Mordenkainen said impressively.

Tenser halted where he stood in mid-step. "City of the—! Of course," he said, relaxing his tone from surprise to sarcasm, "I should have known. Bored with the City of the Elders already, so you've gone and found the City of the Gods?"

"You didn't come here to insult me," Mordenkainen said. "What is it? Has something happened?"

Tenser realized that neither man was watching him warily, but expectantly. It was as if they were expecting some sort of news. "Murlynd," he said at last. "He's…dead."

"So…" Mordenkainen said, leaning more heavily on his staff than before.

"How?" Robilar asked.

"I don't know. We were exploring a building in the Lost City of the Elder…" Tenser said, the memory still so fresh and hurtful that it pained him to say these things. Then he remembered something that made him flash angry at Mordenkainen again. "It was a building you had already explored, Mord. We were just touching the floor and he felt the life draining out of him. No spell I had could save him in time. If it was some trap you had left there…"

"Mordy?" Robilar asked Tenser incredulously. "Are you saying he killed Murlynd?"

"If it was his spell, then it was his doing," Tenser said, not taking his eyes off the sorcerer.

"I can understand you being upset, lad," Mordenkainen said, "but this was not my doing. I left no traps behind me. But this is most troubling. Robilar and I have been beset by an …undefinable sense of loss that has left us just sitting here since yesterday. We could not fathom the cause of it, but it can be no coincidence, you coming here and telling us this news the very next day."

"Yrag calls me 'lad'," was Tenser's response. "I'll show you what I've always wanted to do to him when he calls me that…" With that, he began to speak command words.

Robilar drew his sword with a burst of magical radiance, but watched Mordenkainen's lead and saw the mage simply stand his ground.

"Tenser, what are you--?" Mordenkainen started to ask before he squinted his eyes shut and jerked his head to the right. A brilliant burst of white light appeared in the air next to his left ear. "A light spell, Tenser? Did you think I would not recognize the command words?"

"What are you doing, Tenser?" Robilar asked, finishing Mordenkainen's first question.

"Stay out of this Robilar," Tenser said. "I came here for answers and all I am hearing is sympathy. Tell me what I want to know, Mordenkainen. Do not make this escalate."

"Me? I'm not the one in danger of this escalating…" Mordenkainen said as he calmly circled around the hovering ball of light.

"Look, Tenser, this is not a good time for this," Robilar said, trying to change the subject and tone of the conversation. "This ring of torches is set up for a reason. The giant weasels around here, well – you would not believe how big the vermin infesting these old ruins grows."

"And I should care about this why?" Tenser asked Robilar without looking at him.

"Think about how many ancient places of power we have explored in the last few years," Mordenkainen answered for Robilar, "now in ruins and overrun with base monsters. Are you not curious what cataclysms could have struck, and struck these sites specifically?"

"Nothing but the passage of time has done these things. You seek to distract me with useless riddles. Before Murlynd…died, he was about to tell me something to ask you about. What was it? A secret of yours? Some secret you and he shared?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Mordenkainen said with an impatient sigh.

"Tell me now!" Tenser shouted and waved his staff menacingly.

Mordenkainen answered by gripping his own staff tightly with both hands. He lowered his face so low that he seemed to be watching Tenser through his eyebrows.

Tenser began the duel in earnest. He spat out words of power that awakened the runes of fire on his staff. But he knew Mordenkainen would know the counterspell and listened to his own words drowned out and negated. Again Mordenkainen bade his time and let Tenser make the next move. Tenser began the incantation to invoke a lightning bolt from his staff, but it was a feint that left Mordenkainen echoing the wrong spell as Tenser switched to a hold person spell. Mordenkainen countered by ending his counterspell and casting a new spell with a shorter casting time than Tenser's spell. Tenser recognized it as a simple, but potentially injuring magic missile spell, so he dropped his spell before it could be disrupted and cast a quick shield spell just in time to deflect five arrows of light that sped towards him from Mordenkainen's outstretched hand.

Tenser was planning his next move, but was caught off-guard by a gauntleted hand to the shoulder that yanked him off his feet while a second gauntlet covered his mouth. Before Tenser could react, he was pinned to the ground by Robilar.

"What are you doing?" Robilar asked his prisoner, while kneeling his grieve-covered knee on Tenser's chest. "Mord, has he been charmed?"

"I don't have the magic spell memorized I would need to divine that specifically," Mordenkainen said, "and I fear Tenser is going to have multiple magic auras about him from his personal magical arsenal. Still…I don't think that is the source of our problem. Let go of his mouth, Rob."

Tenser did not say a thing when Robilar released his mouth, but tried to hold onto his dignity in front of his former friends. He did not take his gaze off of Mordenkainen, but he had learned just now to ignore Robilar at his peril and watched him out of the corner of his eye.

Mordenkainen bent over and held out his hand for Tenser. "Wizard's oath not to attack us again?"

With little choice, Tenser took the offered hand as soon as Robilar allowed him to do so. "Wizard's oath," he replied.

"So…what now?" Robilar said, as he rose to his feet on his own.

"Now, we all return to Greyhawk and see if we can find some answers to explain what happened. I am as concerned as you, Tenser," Mordenkainen said softly.

"…and that is most of the story to date," Tenser said. "I cast a teleport spell off of a spell scroll and returned Robilar and myself to Greyhawk while Mordenkainen followed with his own spell. He promised to look into things, and that was two days ago."

Ehlissa listened patiently to her old friend. He had spent most of the day so far – his second day back in the city, by his own account – idly lounging about her shop. At first she had been excited about his visit, as rare as they had been lately, and was eager to show him the spell research she had been commissioned to do. Tenser seemed to have no interest in anything she said or showed him. It was not like him at all, and it worried her. She rolled up the scroll she had just tried to show him. "Erac left for Castle Greyhawk," she said, changing the subject, "with some new friends of his. They think they know where the Sorcerer of the Black Reservoir is."

"Quij's old master?" Tenser asked, half-paying attention. "Well…that would wrap up that old mystery. Did Ayelerach go too?"

"I don't think so," she said, putting the scroll away in its case.

"Funny, that. I wonder why he didn't ask me to come."

"He probably did and you didn't notice. You've been like that since you came back." She stopped fidgeting with the scrollcase and sat it down. "I can understand why you grieve so," she said quietly.

"Can you?" Tenser asked, as if absent-mindedly responding to a question about the weather. He stared out into space, his chin resting on his fingers while he leaned over a slate counter.

"I think so…" she responded, hesitantly.

"I can't."

"Can't what?"

"Can't understand why I feel this way. I'm not sure if I'm grieving at all, at least not in any way I recognize it. It feels like…I feel empty. Like what I should be feeling inside just…got up and left and is somewhere else…but I'm still here."

There was nearly a minute of silence in the room before Ehlissa decided to tell him. "I do know how you feel."

Tenser finally lifted his head and looked at her.

Ehlissa picked up a rack of glass vials to keep her hands busy, but had nowhere in particular to move them to, so she sat them back down. She returned her gaze to Tenser's, having decided she wanted to see how he responded after all. "I felt like that too," she said, "after I gave up adventuring with you…you and Yrag, and some of the others who followed. I remember when Yrag invited Murlynd to come with us to Castle Greyhawk, you know. He always seemed to enjoy our adventures. Somehow, we all did. I gave it up because of the all the killing…"

"They were just monsters," Tenser said.

Ehlissa nodded. "Like they were there just to be killed? I know. I still have nightmares about all the killing, but they're not really nightmares at all. I wake up, and I feel good, like I'd just remembered happy times. It…it shames me," she added, lowering her gaze to the floor.

Tenser stood up and moved closer. Was that a tear on her cheek? "You said you know how I feel…" he prompted.

Ehlissa took a step back from the counter and from Tenser, but she found her courage to talk and to look him in the eye again. She had heard no sarcasm or chiding, as she had feared. "When I gave up going to the castle, I just sat around listless all day. I didn't feel like doing anything or going anywhere. I didn't know what to do with myself until I found the strength to throw myself into opening this shop."

"So…what are you saying? That I should open a shop too?" Tenser said.

The sarcasm she feared was in his voice. She turned away. "I didn't say that," she shot back, defensively. "I only said I knew what it felt like. That emptiness."

"Like there's nothing to do…" Tenser said seriously, as if finishing her thought. Then he suddenly rubbed his fingers together with nervous energy while a new thought came to him. "Ehlissa, come back with me."

"Come back?" she said, turning around. "Come back—"

"To Castle Greyhawk!" he said excitedly, grabbing her by the shoulder. "We'll catch up with Erac, fight a wizard, and—"

"Fight a wizard?" she said, shrugging off his hold on her shoulder. "Now you've taken leave of your senses. Have you forgot that I retired a long time ago? I don't have the experience, let alone the combat spells, to battle a wizard!"

"Yes…" Tenser said, crossing his arms and scratching at his beard, "that would be quite a challenge, wouldn't it? Maybe if we…"

Ehlissa put her hand on his arm. "You know where to find Yrag. Why don't you ask him? And if you find what you're looking for, come back and tell me all about it," she said with a smile.

Tenser smiled back. "Ehlissa, you're the best!" He gave her a fast hug. "I'll tell you all about it when I come back."

And with that, he left. The smile faded from Ehlissa's face and the emptiness crept back up inside her.

The route was one familiar to Tenser, though he had not walked it in the last two years. He cast no shadow on the muddy road under an overcast sky. He walked where he wished to go, demanding no horse, cart, or litter to bear him to his destination. Yesterday's rain-moistened street splattered on his tall boots. He walked past laborers, tradesmen, and men-at-arms; sailors and merchants rubbed shoulders, but all stopped and watched the blue-cloaked figure that trod past them. He clutched his magic staff tightly, holding it above the mud-soaked street instead of using it to aid his strides. As he went, the streets of shops gave way to residencies and Tenser passed each one until he came at last to the familiar door.

The wooden stairs groaned underfoot as Tenser flew down them into the cellar. The smells of fresh wood and old wine never changed, like the house itself. The smell of smoke weed was more pungent, perhaps. The glow of the oil lamp was itself familiar, so that Tenser could guess where it sat on the table below. And there, sitting at the table near the lamp, was Yrag. Beside him stood Mordenkainen. The latter fact startled Tenser and made him pause before speaking.

"Come in, Tenser," Yrag said warmly. "This is a surprise."

"It is indeed," Tenser replied, moving into the room.

Mordenkainen stood there, puffing on a pipe and watching Tenser closely. His eyes darted once to the staff leaning against the nearby wine rack, but he took no action.

Yrag was smoking too. His free hand was resting on some maps spread out on the table. "Tell us what's on your mind, Tenser," he said. "I suspect you are not here to hear your elders talk…" Yrag added, perhaps for humor, though there was no humor in his voice.

"I came to speak to you about Castle Greyhawk, the Sorcerer of the Black Reservoir, and an urgent expedition," Tenser explained, as he unfastened his cloak with one hand, his other still on his staff.

"Really?" Yrag asked between puffs.

"Yes…but it looks like you two were planning an expedition already." Tenser moved forward and glanced at the maps. Then he looked up quickly at both men. "These are not maps of any level of Castle Greyhawk I've seen. Where…?"

"Murlynd kept a secret stronghold," Mordenkainen said. "I've learned of its location and acquired these maps in the past two days. We aim to go there and look for clues that might explain what happened to him."

"Look or loot?" Tenser said sarcastically. He hung his cloak on a wall peg, but continued to hold his staff.

"Either way you split a hair," Mordenkainen continued. "Whatever we take might hold the answer to his demise. We owe it to him to find out."

"You planned to divvy up his share of old treasures between you!" Tenser exclaimed. "I can't believe this! Actually, Mord I could believe this from, but you Yrag?"

"Mord and I are of a similar mind on this matter," Yrag said calmly.

"I came to you for help!" Tenser ranted as he stormed about the room. "By the gods, it's like I don't even know anyone anymore!" It was when he looked again at Yrag and Mordenkainen that he noticed something that made his flesh crawl. Both men were standing now, side by side, and to Tenser's eyes it was now clear as day that they looked so much alike they could be brothers. How could he have never noticed such a thing before? Tenser screwed up his face in disbelief. He tried looking at them from another angle. They just followed him with their eyes, but didn't move. Smoke slowly twirled from the pipes clenched between their teeth, but otherwise they were so still Tenser could have been looking at a painting.

"…What is going on…?" Tenser asked slowly.

"Go to Castle Greyhawk," Yrag said solemnly. "On the lowest level of the dungeon, seek out Zagyg. He can explain everything."

Tenser stepped backward towards the stairs, his legs threatening to give out underneath him at every step. His mind whirled at this madness. What was going on? On the heels of Murlynd's impossible death, now this happened? Had the whole world stopped making sense? A dozen possibilities exploded in Tenser's mind and failed to explain anything. It was all like some mad dream or nightmare, but he could not wake up from it!

"Go to Castle Greyhawk," Mordenkainen said.

Tenser turned and bolted up the steps. He could not recall ever wanting to run from something so fast. He wanted to see something familiar again, something that looked like the world he knew. But upstairs, outside the house, out in the street – everything he looked at seemed different, like everything had been taken away and replaced with something only similar. Again he thought this was all like a dream. Perhaps a spell-induced dream? Mordenkainen's doing? For some reason he did not understand, he could not make himself go back down into Yrag's cellar and confront him again. He made his way through the gate at the front of the yard and followed the familiar – yet unfamiliar – street. But to what destination? He was not going to Castle Greyhawk as long as any chance of finding the answers lay here in the city.

Serten! If the priest did not have the answers, surely his church could divine them. Tenser took the next turn and followed a side street that would wind around closer to the temple of Pholtus. The trip was maddeningly long and Tenser gave up walking like an ordinary man and cast his flying spell halfway down the block. Soon he was soaring through the sweat-stained air of the city, passing low over tile and timber rooftops so as to evade detection at least until he reached his destination. And soon he was back at the Temple of Pholtus he had left so hastily days earlier. Once again he burst through the entrance demanding Serten. But this time, when he saw Serten, he froze where he was.

"No. No…" Tenser said as Serten approached him.

Serten called out to Tenser, but Tenser only quickened his pace as he fled from the temple.

Tenser did not stop running until he felt mud splashing up on his robes. He paused, breathing heavily, and only slowly looked back behind him. He was afraid he would see Serten's face behind him – a face that now looked almost the same as his!

Tenser ran to the building across the street and held onto it, as if anchoring himself to something that felt real. He stood there, processing what little he knew, and found no answers – or at least none that made sense. He only had a direction given to him in which to go, and a name that labeled one extraordinary suspect. Zagig. The man who had become a wizard, founded the City of Greyhawk, and then left it to go build his infamous castle and dungeon. Zagyg. The wizard who had supposedly ascended to demigod-hood and left this mortal plane. Or was waiting to talk to him at the bottom of the dungeon under Castle Greyhawk? It seemed absurd, and yet what had made sense since that moment in Yrag's cellar? Tenser looked up to the sky and said out loud, "I'm coming, Zagyg. You'd better have answers." And with that, he cast the teleport spell he had been saving in his memory and was gone.

Tenser reappeared in a cleared room of the castle, refurbished with a new, strong door, locked from the inside. This arrival point was free of magical wards Tenser, Mordenkainen, and…Murlynd had placed about the ground in the past to limit easy access to the castle grounds. Magical luminescence lit the room, since it was free of windows. The locked door (to which Tenser of course had a key) exited into a corridor, and then a stairwell that led out of the upper castle proper and into the courtyard. There the elves awaited him.

Whether it had been Robilar's idea or his own Tenser could not recall, but the easiest money they had ever made came from blocking off the entrances to Castle Greyhawk and posting guards there to collect tolls for them. Tenser had not realized how many would-be adventurers were still trying to start their careers by finding something not already looted in the dungeons until he began collecting tolls from them all. Robilar and Tenser believed right from the start that they could not hire anyone human for a job like that. Humans were, after all, human and prone to bribery and corruption, so demi-humans seemed to be the way to go. Tenser hired a mercenary company of dwarves to guard one entrance to the dungeon, having already had dealings with their people. Robilar, who spent much more of his time tramping around out west in the Gnarley Wood, once came back with a group of elves and told Tenser that they would guard this, nearer entrance to the dungeon. The animosity between the two groups would keep each trying to look more professional than the other, or so Robilar's reasoning went. Actually, Tenser had never observed much animosity between the two groups, but everything still seemed to be working out so he never bothered to question it.

There were six elves in the courtyard, no doubt taking a break from their guard station deep in the dungeons. They were all rather effeminate with their fine features, long hair, and slender bodies, but at least the short chain hauberks they wore, the bows they carried, and the swords sheathed at their sides made them look more rugged and manly. Three of them were prepared enough to aim their bows at him faster than they could recognize him. They lowered their bows only slowly.

Tenser was relieved they had reacted normally to his approach, but now they seemed unusually subdued. He approached them cautiously. They stood their ground and waited for him. "Good day for adventuring," he said, giving the password that identified him from an imposter.

The elf captain nodded. "Welcome, Tenser," he said, and then they were all quiet again.

Tenser stayed there, thinking what to say for a moment. "Does…does everyone here feel normal?"

"Yes, I would say so," the captain replied.

"Did I interrupt any…I don't know…frolicking? Isn't that what elves do?"

"No, I do not think so. Not today, anyway. I do not think it is a good day for frolicking." Several elves shook their heads no as if to agree.

Tenser thought he might be onto something. "Is there anything different about today?"

The captain looked up and thought about it. "Hard to explain to a human," he said. "It would just not feel right today."

"And yesterday?"

"Yesterday was better."

"Good weather for a nice frolic in the afternoon," another elf spoke up.

"Yes, definitely yesterday afternoon," the captain agreed. "You missed some good frolicking then." A murmur of support seemed to rise from the throats of his companions.

Tenser simply walked past the elves without saying anything more. Perhaps, he thought, the elves were not sensitive towards whatever he and his companions had been feeling since Murlynd's death. Nor did they seem capable of shedding any light on this newer matter in the city. Tenser expended a magical charge from his staff of power and the end of the staff burst into magical luminescence. The globe of light allowed Tenser to see clearly as he made his way into the dark tower that led down into the dungeons. The room inside had been set up with cots for the elves to rest comfortably on while they meditated, and four more were in here now. They were silent as Tenser passed them, bound for the stairwell down into the dungeons.

How often had he taken this entrance now? Twenty times? Not counting other entrances into the dungeons, it was possible. He knew every step of the way. He knew the corridors that split off and bent around the various rooms that once held kobolds, giant centipedes, and other things that once terrified him, but were now no more. He was not wandering idly, for the path he chose led to a chamber dominated by an enormous stairwell. His light did not cast as far as the bottom of it, but Tenser knew it was one the more direct routes down to the fifth dungeon level. That was still a long way from the bottom of the dungeon, but it was a useful shortcut at the start. Tenser took the damp steps slowly and cautiously, remembering the time the gnolls from the third dungeon level spiked caltrops to the steps. Occasionally, he heard an indistinct noise echoing up from one of the lower levels. It was upon reaching the landing to the second level that he heard a voice clearly.

"Here, orc, orc, orc! Here, orc, orc, orc…"

The landing was a gallery surrounding the stairwell, with corridors leading off of it. Spiked to the wall of one corridor was a familiar "now hiring orcs" sign, but Tenser did not need additional clues to know he had run into Robilar down here. Tenser thought about ignoring him and continuing on, but curiosity got the better of him – especially since this seemed like normal behavior for Robilar, while all the rest of his friends seemed strangely transformed. Robilar was still yelling when Tenser spotted him down a side passage, but Tenser did not remain unnoticed for long. Robilar spun around with his sword at the ready, but relaxed when he saw it was Tenser.

"What are you doing down here?" Tenser asked.

"I could ask you the same thing," Robilar said evasively. He held his ground as Tenser drew closer.

"You are hiring orcs for something," Tenser said.

"Just for a little fun…" Robilar said, now looking around as if he were embarrassed anyone else might hear them. When he saw Tenser was staring at him and waiting for more of an explanation, Robilar sighed loudly and pushed past Tenser.

"I…I come back here to ride the worm," Robilar said quietly.

"You do what?"

"Ride the worm! You know what I mean, the gigantic worm that fills the shaft near the labyrinth? I…lure it up the shaft with fresh orc food, levitate down on its snout, and try to stay on it without being bitten or knocked off of it."

Tenser tried to picture that as Robilar walked back to the stairwell, but he had to ask, "Why?"

"Because I can!" Robilar shot back, throwing his hands in the air. "Because…sometimes I have to make my own challenges." He sat down on the outside edge of the cold, wet step, hunched forward and oblivious to any discomfort.

Tenser followed him and sat down by Robilar on the inside edge of the same stair. He rested his staff on a stair several steps down. "I thought life was challenging enough," Tenser said.

"It is not like it used to be," Robilar said, staring out over the stairwell. "Three years ago, just starting out, we had trouble fighting anything. Six months ago, I subdued two dragons with just Quij and Otto beside me." 

"That is impressive," Tenser admitted.

"It all comes at a cost, you know. The dangers and the rewards keep escalating, but there is no going back to the way things were. And the rewards, they come with responsibilities now. The dangers jade us, but it is the responsibilities that really change us."

Tenser composed a quick mental list of Robilar's known responsibilities. He did own the Green Dragon Inn now, in the city, and he had heard Robilar owned a castle of his own out in the Gnarley Forest, but he doubted these were what Robilar was talking about. "How have you been changed?" he asked.

Robilar did not answer right away. When he did, he said, "You're going to the bottom, aren't you? When you find him…tell him I've done his will."

Tenser rose slowly to his feet. He started to reach for the wand of paralyzation he still kept tucked in his belt, but instead clenched his fist. "You have already been there," Tenser stated grimly. "You found Zagyg."

Robilar did not even nod in agreement, but said, "It was just an accident that I found him, but he was waiting for me. He…sent me somewhere. Took me a long time to find my way back. You remember those three months I was away, said I was on an expedition past the Barrier Peaks. I came back, but things are different now."

"Does Mord know about this?"

Robilar's far-away look left him and he smiled as he shook his head. "No…Murlynd had it wrong. Mord never knew more than you did." There was another long pause before Robilar added, "You had best hurry. He's expecting you."

Tenser had no patience for more talk with Robilar anyway. That Robilar had known these secrets all this time disgusted him. Without a backward glance, Tenser continued down the stairs. His path led him deeper and deeper, winding around and around, until it deposited him at long last at the fifth level gallery. Here, the last of his elf guards waited. They trained their weapons on him while he proved who he was and then was let on his way. Knowing which corridor to take, he headed purposefully in the direction of the moveable platform that would take him down to the eighth level. He was making excellent time through the dungeon when he came across Erac and his new party.

Erac and his three companions were making no effort to travel quietly. Indeed, Tenser heard them from across half the dungeon level well before he saw any sign of their lights. At first he wanted to avoid them, but as they grew louder it became clear to him that they were heading toward the central stairwell and were bound to cross his path before he reached the platform's shaft. By the time they did come into his passage, he was waiting patiently for them. As silent as he was waiting, he caught them completely by surprise. Erac's new companions consisted of two men in armor carrying a heavy chest between them and a dwarven fighter who was evidently supposed to be scouting before them, but was instead looking back and gleefully saying things like, "The look on his face!" to the others. The dwarf, when he noticed Tenser, cried out in alarm and began swinging a stout mace in front of him. The other companions dropped their chest and scrambled for their own weapons. Luckily, Erac stopped them all.

"This is Tenser!" Erac cried out. "Attack him, my friends, at your peril." Erac stepped forward and spoke directly to Tenser. "I am glad to see you found us, though you are too late to share in all but our victory celebration back in town. We have not only bearded the Black Sorcerer in his lair, but caught him unaware and stole his treasure hoard right out from underneath him! But…what is wrong, Tenser? You look like you have seen a ghost."

Tenser tried to look more casual. "I am on business of my own in the dungeon. A private matter. So I'm afraid I won't be able to join you back in town."

"Our loss, Tenser. I hope to see you again soon!" Erac said, clapping Tenser on the shoulder as the others moved past him. Erac looked back at Tenser one more time with a face just like Tenser's own – just as Serten had worn – though both men had seemed oblivious to what Tenser saw on them. It was no longer cause for alarm to Tenser, as he had already received so many shocks just lately. It was, instead, just one more question for Zagyg at the bottom.

The platform did not, as Tenser had had been surprised to learn, work on magic. It seemed to function through purely technological means, an esoteric field Tenser had never studied. He knew the word "pulley," for example, but could not visualize it the way he could visualize, say, "fireball." What he did understand was that he only had to pull a rope recessed in the wall of the room three times, and the floor would descend three levels. It was a little unsettling after that, as the supports under the floor slid back noisily and the floor grew less stable for standing. The platform that had been the floor tipped this way and that as it nudged its way down the shaft. It was a slow, noisy process and Tenser never understood why one would not simply employ some sort of variant levitation spell to accomplish this, but eventually the trip was over and Tenser found himself on the eighth level. From there, Tenser knew which room to go to which would teleport him to an otherwise inaccessible section of the dungeon level with a remote stairwell leading down to the ninth level. He was making rapid progress until he reached the ninth level. He had been down here before and never found a means of descending to a tenth level. Tenser and his associates knew this as the "arena level." There was a chance that Tenser would have to best a certain number of creatures summoned to the arena before he could descend, but he was not looking forward to such a delay.

One possibility he had considered was sloping corridors. He had seen this trick used many times on the upper levels, suddenly finding himself above or below where he had thought he was after a long trek down a bending, empty corridor. Of course, no corridors in the castle were truly empty, nor were the floors smooth slate. He had once thought of using marbles rolling on the floor to detect sloping hallways, but they never rolled far on the pockmarked, stone flagstones before they became stuck in a crack, or rolled into a puddle of water, slime, or guano, or simply snagged in a cobweb. No, there was nothing for it but to try every passage on the ninth level and make sure he knew where they all led.

Tenser produced his maps of the dungeon from a scroll case and checked his newest copies of the lower levels. He could see only a few empty spots on his map of the ninth level where a lower egress might lie concealed. And yet, as he glanced at his map of the eighth level, he was reminded of a particularly long, twisting corridor that he had given up following on a previous expedition. Could that have sloped down deep enough to bypass the ninth level entirely and emerge on the tenth? Well, of course it could. Anything was possible in the dungeons of a mad demi-god. The point was, Tenser's instincts told him that this was the way. Its very subtlety screamed out Zagyg's signature handiwork. He knew of a secret stairwell between the ninth and eighth floors not far away and used that to backtrack more easily than the slow ride back up on the moving platform.

The corridor at the top of the secret stairwell went to the left and right, forcing Tenser to check his map again. This was what they called the "crypts level," and there were several crypts Tenser wanted to make sure he gave a wide berth in case…well, just in case. Most undead creatures could be destroyed by spellcraft as well as any living creatures could, but it was in places like this where he felt most comfortable having a cleric like Serten with him. Not the least pleasant, but still distracting, aspect of this level was the strong odor of embalming fluid in the stale air. It was not a place to tarry long.

He was following a corridor with many bends and doors, with one hand on his light-emitting staff and one hand on his map, when he felt a cold presence behind him. Spinning around, he saw the ghostly spectre of some long-dead nobleman float through a doorway behind him. Tenser backed away, less out of fear than just wishing to avoid this encounter.

"I do not have time for this," Tenser muttered angrily as he waved his staff in front of it, watching the spectre recoil from the continual light emanating from the staff. Tenser spoke the command words for the staff and caused the same glow to appear, centered on the spectre's brow. With the undead pest reeling as if in pain, Tenser hazarded a quick look around and was nearly surprised to see a spectral knight floating quickly toward him from behind. Tenser used the same tactic to blind the second spectre. With more time on his hands now, Tenser looked back and forth down the corridor and figured the distance. He dodged the flailing specters, still fearful of their deadly touch, and ran all the way to the end of the corridor where it turned. The spectres wore no expressions, but floated slowly down the corridor after him like bottles floating in a rough sea. They seemed to sense his presence and kept after him. They would be on him soon, if he failed to evoke his spell from his staff in time.

The spectres were nearly on top of him again when he finished evoking a lightning bolt from his staff. The lightning bolt ripped through both spectres as if they were sheets of paper. Though they each had a gaping hole in them, they still advanced on Tenser and moaned horribly – but that was before the lightning bolt bounced off the wall at the other end of the hallway and tore right through both spectres again. The bolt dissipated just a few feet shy of Tenser's chest. The spectres lost their shape and dissolved into masses of shadowy tentacles. The spectral knight dissolved again into wisps of smoke and disappeared, but the spectral lord -- in tentacle form -- still advanced on Tenser. Tenser backed away and rested his staff against the wall. He spoke simple magic words and made a few two-handed gestures. The spectre swung at him and the still-deadly tendrils that had looked like fingers a second ago passed through his sleeve and bleached the fabric white. Before it could swing again, five glowing arrows smote holes in the mass of tentacles and then that too dissolved into nothingness. Tenser gave out a sigh of satisfaction, retrieved his staff, and continued down the corridor.

The corridor continued on and on, turning corners every 10 to 20 paces. There were side passages, but they seemed to only turn back on the main passage. There were no rooms. It was maze-like and confusing, but Tenser gave up sketching a crude map. He put his maps away and made decisions with his eyes closed. He hoped that, if he was heading in the right direction, he would feel it. And he did start to make faster time and noticed himself turned around and seeing something familiar less often. It encouraged him to press on, so press on he did.

It became hard to distinguish how long he had been following that passage, but the hunger in his gut told Tenser that he had long since skipped at least one meal. Still he kept going. After some time, he noticed the architecture of the passageway had changed. The walls were better worked, with some sort of chiseled, repeating design along the top of the wall, as well as archways every seven paces. Tenser was examining an archway, wondering if he should try to detect magic from it, when he was struck. Someone or something unseen had just clubbed him on the back of the head and sent him stumbling forward. His vision was blurred now, but when he looked back he still simply failed to see any attacker. Undead, like the spectres? It would not matter. He evoked a fireball spell from his staff and threw it to the far end of the corridor behind his invisible attacker. Unlike the lightning bolt earlier, Tenser had misjudged the distance this time and the blowback scorched him. His face felt hot and his arm sleeve was on fire, but there was no more attack from behind him. The next blow came from in front of him.

Tenser reeled and caught himself, face leaning against the cold stone wall. He felt all disoriented and felt like he was lifting himself up off the floor at first as he pushed away from the wall. He looked both ways and still saw no attackers, but he was fairly sure which direction was the way he had come from and he ran in that direction. He knew he could not take one or two more hits like those. When he felt he was a safe distance away, he turned around and looked back. Still nothing, but he was always ready for this. He cast his detect invisible spell…and stared dumbfounded down the corridor.

There were invisible stalkers standing there in the corridor – four of them! It was more than Tenser had ever seen all at once, but that did not mean he was not ready for them. The defense against them, as his studies had shown, was deceptively easy if these were conjured by the spell he knew. A simple protection from evil abjuration would ward them away. Of course, there was always the possibility that they had been brought here some other way, or were perhaps invisible illusions, as a sort of double feint? Doubt made Tenser hesitate, but then he thought of his mission, gritted his teeth, and pressed on ahead once more.

He watched the stalkers start to draw closer and stopped to see what would happen. As he had hoped, the stalkers came no closer. He kept moving forward and the stalkers parted before him. Tenser turned another corner in the corridor and saw three more stalkers just standing there. How many were there down here – and how had Robilar fought past them? Tenser decided Robilar must have just ran right through. The plan had merit. Both the detection and the protection spells had limited duration and there was no telling how far this corridor went or how many stalkers would be between him and the way he came when they ended. Worrying a little more again, Tenser picked up his pace.

The corridor branched off into various side passages that appeared, when Tenser glanced down them, to lead to side rooms. Tenser was not interested in exploring any of those. He found himself at an intersection where he had to choose a path and could see no sign of tracks that would tell him which way to take. He closed his eyes and concentrated on each path, trying to sense which one was correct. He took the one to the right and followed it past several more turns and twice as many stalkers, but came at last to a dead end. There was a statue of Zagyg at the end of the corridor, as if calmly waiting for him. The statue was carved from limestone, but expertly done. Zagyg looked every inch to be a powerful arch-mage, his robes, beard, and long hair all flowing in some non-existent breeze that he faced defiantly – no, triumphantly. In the statue's outstretched hand, it held a real wooden staff. The staff looked much like Tenser's staff of power, but shod in gold instead of iron and capped by an enormous sapphire. Tenser cast a minor divination spell to detect for magic and sensed it strongly from both statue and staff. Tenser reacted with a sneer of derision, but touched the staff anyway out of curiosity. The statue's arm animated and handed the staff to him. Tenser looked up and down the length of the staff, considering it, but then cast it clattering to the floor. It was still bouncing when Tenser kicked it and sent it flying into the legs of the statue.

"Ahhh!" Tenser screamed in anger and frustration. "Is that all you have to show me, Zagyg?" he hollered at the statue. "Is that my prize for making it down here? Well, I don't want your spoils or your rewards or your damn magic staves! I want answers! What is going on? What have you done to my life? Answer me!"

There was no response at all from the statue, which just made Tenser even more enraged. He was almost ready to kick the statue when he thought he heard a voice whispering to him. It was a man's voice, saying, "Follow me." Tenser strained to hear more, but it was always the same words. It was coming from behind him, but there was no one there – not even visible to his magically enhanced vision. The words came, instead, on a breeze of fresh, cool air that wafted down the corridor to him.

Tenser concentrated on following the voice on the breeze as it led back to the last intersection. Here, he took the other path and followed it past more doorways to rooms, side passages, and major intersections. The voice was leading him to some destination at the far end of this dungeon level. When he arrived, his destination was so plain and simple that he did not realize it at first. It was a small room, 20 feet on a side. It was empty at first, but it was only a moment before a bright, colorful light shone from the corner of the room, and then a man stepped into it.

The man looked like both Yrag and Mordenkainen, or more like a brother to both of them. He looked a lot like the statues of Zagyg Tenser had seen throughout the dungeon over the years, only a little shorter, frumpier, and with a much shorter beard. His clothes were strange too – a cote that was open in the front and done up with buttons, loose hose fastened with only a belt, and short leather shoes. He wore a pair of spectacles perched on his nose. He stood there, watching Tenser watching him, and smiled. "Hello, Tenser," the man said.

Tenser walked across the small room and paced back, watching the strange man intensely. Finally, he asked, "Who are you?"

"Who do you think I am?" the strange man asked back, clearly amused.

"I know who I am supposed to think you are. Zagig, the man who became a mage, founded a city, and created these infamous dungeons. Zagyg, the demi-god who had been that man. But how do I know this is no trick or illusion? What if you are some sort of monster or magical guardian using magic to make me lower my guard?"

"Then it would be a very poor stratagem, as clearly you are not lowering your guard. I'm sure you have much divination magic at your disposal, though if I am who you suspect I am, then I could even fool your spells. So what proof would you have as to my identity?"

"I…don't know," Tenser confessed.

"Then don't worry about it. Let's get down to what you came for."

"I came here for the truth."

"No you didn't," the strange man said, chuckling. "You came for answers. I can give you those. The truth is what you will have to decide before you leave here."

"What happened to Yrag and Mordenkainen, and to Serten, Erac, and me?"

"Nothing."

"Then why do Serten and Erac look like me, and Yrag and Mordenkainen look like you?" Tenser asked.

"Because you can see them differently now."

"Are you suggesting that I am responsible for this?"

"In a way. You have grown and, as you have grown, your perception of the world around you has changed."

"That makes no sense. Why do I perceive them all as only two people now?"

"You have a special gift now, Tenser. You are seeing the connectivity of things. Two sets of three individuals, each set with a special link."

"Links to what? Or who?"

"Links to a special destiny. With Serten and Erac, you share this destiny, as Yrag and Mordenkainen share a destiny."

"You resemble Yrag and Mord to me," Tenser said. "Do you share their destiny as well?"

"I am…more of a special case."

"What is the nature of this special destiny?"

"What would you like it to be?"

"I…don't understand."

"Would you like me to tell you it is to save the world?"

"Why can you not simply tell me the truth?"

The strange man sighed, looked down, and put his hands in pockets on the sides of his straight-legged hose. He stood like that for a moment and then said, "Suppose I tell you another set of answers." He pulled one hand out of a pocket and pushed his spectacles back up his nose. "Suppose there is another world, another plane of existence, where men play a very unusual game."

At that, the strange man paused. Tenser grew impatient with the pause. "And?" Tenser prompted.

"A game that has repercussions in our world because the events of their game play out here."

"Through magic?"

"A sort of magic. It is a game where each player is represented here by one or more…avatars, for lack of a better word."

"It sounds like you speak of gods, playing sport with mortal lives."

"Yes…but on this world, they are just ordinary people – even children – leading ordinary lives. And yet – you know the myths of the gods. Most sound just like ordinary men and women if not for their power. Can power, then, not make gods?"

"Now you ask me for answers," Tenser observed sarcastically. "Or present me with riddles?"

"It's the riddle of life, Tenser. Who are you?"

"Who – are you suggesting I am complicit in this game? Or that I have been…possessed by one of these otherworldly beings?"

"More than possessed – deeply linked. You are part of him now and have been since that day you first entered Yrag's house three years ago."

"Part of who?"

"A boy – a young man introduced to this game by his father."

"If your game was to offend me, it has now worked," Tenser said angrily.

"You are an extension of him now," the man continued, ignoring Tenser, "as are Serten and Erac. Yrag and Mordenkainen are both linked to a separate player."

Then the man paused and gave Tenser a moment to think. Tenser turned his eyes away from him for the first time. "Does it worry you to have your life linked to another's?" the man asked Tenser. "Has your life not been linked to your fellow adventurers since you first fought beside them? Or are you bothered by the thought of being used for 'sport'? Have you not noticed a sometimes-inexplicable pleasure from your adventures, undimmed by all the killing and pillaging? Have you not thought of it as sport yourself in your darkest moments?"

You pry too deeply into my thoughts," Tenser said angrily, with his face still turned away. He nervously drummed his fingers on his staff. "But it seems to me that there must still be a reckoning for Murlynd's death. If these otherworldly beings were in someway responsible—"

"Death came to both sides," the man said, holding his open hands before Tenser's rage as if warming them before an open fire. "Both sides have suffered. It is only fair that both sides heal. You have been instrumental in helping that young man on other side. Through you, he has explored the feelings of confusion, despair, and powerlessness he has felt since his own loss. Through Serten he feels connected to a higher power and purpose. Through Erac he has chosen the escapism of adventure, as you saw on your way here."

"Who else suffers this fate?" Tenser asked, afraid to humor this further. "Robilar?"

The man nodded.

"Terik?"

Again, the man nodded. "Don't forget Ehlissa," the man volunteered. The girl playing her lost interest in the game. Ehlissa has felt it. She feels less alive now. She also sees that you have what she once had and misses it."

This statement bothered Tenser more than the others. It was true he had observed much melancholy in his old and dear friend these past two years. If even part of this tale was true, he would have to see what he could do for her. What bothered Tenser more, though, was the strange man's inference that he knew Ehlissa better than Tenser did.

"And Murlynd too," the stranger said, snapping Tenser's mind back to attention.

"Murlynd! He had said what happened to him was not part…part of a game..." His voice trailed off as this fanciful tale changed in his mind into a horrible, smothering monster.

"A deathbed insight into what had occurred in his player's world. The man who played Murlynd passed away just recently. He is sorely missed by the other players. With his passing, well, Murlynd was too deeply linked to the man to survive without him."

"No," Tenser said, staring at the floor.

"I'm sorry, Tenser. There is little I could do to break this to you easier when you barged down here demanding answers."

"No, I reject this story. It must be false," Tenser said, hardening his tone.

"What would it take to convince you? A meeting with your player?"

Tenser took a step back. "Could you arrange for me to confront these beings?"

"Of a sort," the man said. He waved his hand, and a ladder appeared where there had been none, under a trap door in the ceiling that had not been there. "If you choose to climb this ladder, you will emerge in this other world I have shared with you. However, if what I tell you is true, then your crossing over will merge you completely with the young man you go there to meet."

Tenser stared at the ladder. "Merge with him? Permanently?"

"Yes."

"This route would …kill me?"

"What are we after death? A collection of memories of experiences? The flesh and bone have their uses, but what you are – who are you, Tenser -- is the sum of your experiences. All you are you would share with the young man who needs your experiences right now. You have already helped him so much. Your earliest experiences in the dungeon taught him the value of playing. Then you taught him the value of friendship and trusting others. He had his first boyish crush through you. And now, he needs your help to deal with death, still a stranger to him, but so well-known to you. "

Tenser took another step back and bumped into a wall. He looked back and noticed, for the first time, that the entrance he had used was no longer there.

He leaned into the wall that felt cold and damp and real behind him and held his staff defensively before himself. "So, is this 'young man' your master? Did he send you here to fetch me?"

"No," the man said, shaking his head. "I am not being made to do this by him, though I am doing this for him. But you have a choice here too, Tenser. As I said, you will choose the truth. Your own truth. This way," he said, waving to the ladder, "leads to great change, a new life, and great responsibility. You will help a boy become a man. But this way," he said and, as he waved his hand toward the floor, an opening appeared in the floor with a chute beneath it, "this way leads back to the life you know."

"Robilar's long journey…" Tenser muttered.

"True. Neither choice will be easy, as no important choices are. The chute leads to the other side of the world. China. Cathay. I actually haven't decided what to call it yet, but it's there and waiting for you. It may be the other side of the world, but it is still your world and the world you know. You will accomplish great things as a wizard, but eventually the boy who shares this bond with you will lose interest and you will grow discontent and feel unconnected to anything for the rest of your days. Or, you choose the life unknown to you and find yourself more whole than you had ever thought possible."

Tenser looked back and forth between the two choices. And he, for some reason he did not entirely understand, believed that these were in fact his only two choices. Fear gripped at his heart – fear that he would choose the wrong one.

"I am sorry," the man continued, "that you have no more time to decide. A man normally has his whole lifetime to choose his destiny, but I'm afraid you're being asked to decide yours on a tighter schedule than that. I can't tell you which one is the right choice, as it's not that simple a choice. Whichever you choose will feel like the right choice to you for months, perhaps years. Only when you can look back, after the passage of more time, can you see the path you had taken clearly and if it – the choice you made – was worth it."

Tenser dove for the hole in the floor. He went down the chute feet first. He screamed as he slid down and down. He screamed out his frustration, confusion, and anger. He felt somewhat relieved and was able to think again. He tried to cast a memorized feather fall spell on himself, but it did nothing to slow his descent. He tried using his staff braced against the sides of the chute to slow his fall, but the iron shod at the ends of his staff only scraped noisily against the metal chute and the friction threatened to wrench the staff from his grasp. So he just slid down and down the long, twisting chute.

Up above, the man – the demigod, the demiurge, the being who answered to Zagig, Zagyg, Gygax, and a host of other names -- walked over to the chute and stood over it. He could hear the horrendous din from the chute below, but did nothing to stop it.

Below, Tenser's panic had left him. He was descending quietly now, with his eyes closed. His life flashed before his eyes – no, not his life, but just his adventures. He was glad he would be able to go back to exploring lost cities with Mordenkainen, Robilar, and the others. Glad he would see his castle on the shores of the Nyr Dyv completed. And glad to see Ehlissa again and try to tell her how, at the last moment, how much she had figured into his decision.

Up above, Zagyg waved away the ladder and trapdoor in the ceiling. He looked back down into the chute and said so that it could not be heard, "Go and be well, Tenser. You will always carry a piece of my son with you. So you will always have a father's love."

Below, Tenser slid deeper and deeper through the world, the chute immediately around him illuminated by his glowing staff and the rest in darkness. Until at last – after who knows how many hours or days – Tenser finally saw the opening at the end and the light blinding him from outside. And then Tenser went through the opening and emerged into the world.

42


End file.
